


Broken Apart

by krazyk2314



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Demon Dean Winchester, Demons, F/M, Knight(s) of Hell, Mark of Cain, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:29:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 122
Words: 151,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5683267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krazyk2314/pseuds/krazyk2314
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader is in a relationship with Dean, but once he receives the mark of Cain everything begins to change. Will your relations be able to survive the effect the mark has on Dean, and what happens if you run away from it all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Slamming the ancient tome onto the table, you coughed at the dust storm you created. This was the third book in the last hour you had gotten down from the seldom used shelves, and you were starting to get cranky and annoyed, not to mention filthy. 

It didn't help matters that this was the fourth day in a row you had been stuck doing research in the library of the bunker with Sam while Dean was off trying to find a way to kill Abadon.

You thought back to when you had first met the Winchesters, three years ago. You had been busy dividing your time between school and hunting, a dangerous and exhausting combination. Many hunters had laughed in your face, telling you how stupid you were. To them, college was a big waste of time, it was never going to teach you how to kill a Rugaru, or the best way to hunt down a Wendigo. It was just a way to distract you, and end up getting you killed.

You knew that it was a useless endeavor, but it had been your parents greatest wish that you would get a college degree. Before they could see that dream fulfilled, they had been killed by a Demon, who then vanished into thin air. Giving up on finding him, you made sure you had your G.E.D., then fulfilled your promise, and enrolled in classes, deciding your best course of action was to get a degree in ancient mythology. Maybe in the long run it would help your hunting life. Because there was no way you were going to quit being a hunter.

Long story short, you had graduated, and the next week you had been given the chance to finally avenge your parents death. But when you had finally cornered the demon at an old estate, two men were already there, with a bloody lifeless body laying on the floor in front of them. Striding over, you stopped beside them, and watched as they stared at you curiously.

One was tall, at least 6 foot 4 inches, a lanky build hidden beneath layers of clothing. His hair was a deep, rich mahogany that was smooth and shiny, curling slightly at his shoulders. His face was chiseled, with sharp cheek bones and a slightly pointed chin. His eyes were a brilliant hazel, with a kindness and depth you hadn't expected to see in a hunter. He was handsome, maybe not the modeling type, but in the boy next door fashion.

It was the man standing next to him that took your breath away. He was tall, but not nearly as tall as his partner. Where his friend was lean and lanky, this man had more muscle to him, still hidden under multiple layers of clothing. He had short dishwater blonde hair that stood up in the front, in a fashionably messy way. His face was sculpted, with a dimpled chin and a nose that had seen one too many fights. His lips were full and plump, and you caught yourself imagining what it would be like to take his bottom lip between your own. His eyes were amazing, a vibrant green that you thought you would only read about in stories. He was an immensely handsome man, and you were immediately drawn to him.

"Can we help you?" He questioned, his voice just as attractive as the rest of him. It was deep and smooth, like whiskey being poured over ice. It was a voice a girl dreamed about, one that could cause shivers of pleasure to run up and down your spine.

You knew you had been caught ogling the man, but you didn't really care. Instead you glanced down at the bloody body, disappointed that you never had the chance to revenge your parents murder.

"Were you able to catch the demons name before you exorcised him?" You asked, wanting to make sure the son of a bitch was really dead.

The tall one raised an eyebrow before answering. "Yeah, he said his name was Agerus. Why?"

So it was true, he was really dead. You felt relief that no one else could get hurt by this monster, but you were also frustrated that you weren't the one to end him, to get closure for your parents.

"I've been tracking him for the last three months. He killed my family." You stated, your eyes still trained on the body in front of you, so you missed the silent look between the two men.

"Hey, we're sorry. If we had known, we would have waited. We know what it's like, wanting and needing closure." The green eyed one apologized.

"No biggy. Just glad the monster is dead." You said, toeing the body to double check, not noticing that single tear that slid down your cheek.

Turning to leave, you were stopped by a large rough hand on your shoulder. It was the giant, and he had a soft, gentle look on his face.

"I'm Sam, that's my brother Dean. Why don't we get some food, it's the least we could do." Sam told you, and you accepted. You hadn't looked back since.

You realized you had just wasted ten minutes reminiscing about old times, and you chided yourself. Every minute that Abbadon was free and alive, was another dead body on your hands. Sighing deeply, you opened the ancient book just as Sam walked in from the kitchen, two plates in his hands. 

Placing one in front of you, he sat down across the table before picking up the sandwich and digging in. You followed suit, enjoying the simple meal and the quiet, easy friendship the two of you shared. 

Ever since that fateful day, you and Sam had become inseparable, the best of friends. It was because of that friendship that your relationship with Dean had taken so long to happen. 

Dean had thought that you and Sam were an item, and you had ended up taking a chance and showing Dean how much he really meant to you. That had been a year ago, and the two of you had been an item ever since.

"Earth to Y/N." Sam teased, and you gave him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, my heads in the clouds today I guess." You explained.

Sam shrugged it off before moving his plate to the side and reaching for his laptop. "Don't worry about it. You've been doing research night and day, you're welcome to a day dream every now and then."

Grateful that Sam understood perfectly, you went back to reading the ancient script, trying to find anything on how to kill a knight of hell, or at least lock her up like Lucifer.

Hours passed, and the two of you remained silent, each caught up in your own research. A slamming door broke the silence, and you both glanced up, watching as Dean made his way down the stairs.

Jumpinf out of your chair, you ran over, pouncing into his arms. He wrapped his arms tight around you, his head nestled in your hair.

"God I've missed you baby girl." He muttered, and you could tell he was exhausted. Removing yourself from his arms, you pulled him down the stairs and pushed him into one of the chairs, before pouring him a finger of scotch. He downed it in one shot before leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes. 

You took the chance to look him over, checking for injuries. His shirt was stained and bloody, his knuckles raw and bloody. He had the start of a black eye, and a split lip.

"What the hell happened Dean?" Sam asked, beating you to the punch.

"Long story." Dean mumbled, keeping his eyes closed. 

"Well why don't you tell us about it, then I'll go get that pie I baked you." You tempted him, knowing he couldn't resist you pie.

He opened his eyes, eyes that were dark and somber, and told you a story you had a hard time believing, but the look in Dean's eyes proved it to be true.


	2. Unbelievable

You were speechless, and that didn't happen very often. In fact you could count on one hand the number of times you had been shocked speechless, and that included today. 

Sam seemed to be in the same boat, his mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to speak but nothing was coming out. 

"Say something. " Dean pleaded, knowing that the two of you wouldn't be happy with his impulsive decision. 

Finally, as if a spell had been lifted, you were able to speak. "Let me get this right. You went behind our back, and involved Crowley. The two of you met with Cain, the one and only Cain, and asked for his help."

Dean nodded, letting you know your summary was exact. "So what happened? Did he say he would help?" You asked, curious. 

Sam watched the exchange quietly, his hazel eyes taking in everything. 

"Not exactly." Dean uttered, and those two words worried you. Knowing nothing ever worked in your favor, you raised your eyebrow, waiting for Dean to continue. 

Before he could, a deep, cracked voice spoke from behind you, making you jump in your sleep.

"Sam, Y/N, I'm afraid I lost track of..." Your friend and Angel Castiel started to say before he stopped. "I see he returned."

Cas came to stand next to you, and you looked up at your other best friend. Cas may be awkward, and unique, but he had always been there for you, and you enjoyed all his weird characteristics. He was still wearing the trench coat over the suit, even though you had tried talking him into wearing jeans. His dark hair was nowhere as messy as it had been when you had first met,  and his blue eyes were more trusting and human.

"Yeah he just did," Sam replied, finally speaking up.

Cas continued to look at Dean, his eyes squinted and his head titled to the side in serious thought. Before you could ask what was wrong, Cas strode around the table and grabbed Dean's arm, yanking up his sleeve. Dean tried protesting and pulling his arm away, but the Angels grip was ironclad, and Dean's arm was going nowhere.

"Dean what did you do?" Cas growled, and that's when you got a glimpse of Dean's arm. On the meaty part of his forearm, there was an angry red tattoo, small in design, but standing up like a brand. It was made up of one long curved line, with a smaller line tucked into the side.

"What is that?" You asked, concerned. Cas finally dropped Dean's arm, and Dean pulled his shirt back down, subconsciously rubbing the mark.

"It's a means to an end." Dean said, turning away so none of you could see his face. He grabbed the whiskey decanter, pouring a generous amount in the crystal glass before downing it in one shot.

"It's more than that. It's the mark of Cain, isn't it Dean." Cas said. 

"So that's how Cain is helping, by freeing himself and trapping you with you his toubles." Sam said angrily, pushing away from the table. You stayed in your chair, confused and shocked, hoping this was all some nightmare, and you would wake up cuddled next to Dean. But his next words assured you that you were wide awake, and the nightmare was real.

"It doesn't matter. It will help me kill Abaddon, and that's all that matters. Nothing else. She needs to be stopped, and if I have to become some type of monster than so be it." Dean said, a rare rage to his words that scared you. 

Walking carefully towards him, you tried to see reason, but for the life of you all you could see was Dean throwing his life, and your love away. 

Standing close by, you gently touched his shoulder. "We would have found another way. You matter, our love matters, more than some stupid mark."

"It's not stupid." Dean roared, accidentally knocking you backwards as he turned to yell at you. His strength had doubled, you noticed, because a simple arm out knocked you clean off your feet, and you watched in slow motion as the edge of the table moved towards your head, unable to stop or twist your body away.

Your forehead struck the edge of the wood, before the rest of your body collided with the floor. Sam came racing forward, and gathered you in his arms, gently touching your forehead. Your head ached, and you noticed Sam's fingers had come away red with your blood.

Sam turned to glare at Dean, and your gaze followed his, slowly moving up Dean's still body, before resting on his face. Dean stood there frozen, guilt and shock turning him into a statue. Sam helped you up, and the sight of you leaning into his brother finally broke Dean out of his stupor, and he moved towards you, an apology ready on his lips.

 

You shook your head, the movement causing two things, a headache the size of Texas throbbing through your head, and Dean stopping with his hand still raised in the air. 

"You okay?" Sam asked gently, his arm still supporting you.

"Yeah, I just want to go to bed." You replied, and Sam started guiding you down the hallway, towards your room. Behind you you heard Dean start to come after you, then Castiel telling him that wasn't a good idea.

Sam stayed with you, sitting you on the edge of your bed, and grabbing the first aidfrom your bathroom. As he dabbed your cut with alcohol, he tried apologizing for his brother.

"I don't know what got into him, but Dean would never mean to hurt you. He would die before he hurt you." His hazel eyes grief stricken.

Placing your hand on Sam's forearm, you quickly assured him. "I know Sam. I might have pushed him too much. But the mark has already changed him, there's an anger in him, a strength that wasn't there before. It scares me."

Sam went still, and you knew he had noticed it too. "I know, I don't think this mark is a good thong. But if it gets rid of Abbadon then..." Sam said before trailing off.

"Then we come to that when the time comes. Right now we need to be there for Dean, to make sure he doesn't get worse." You stated, and Sam nodded before leaving you alone in your room.


	3. Forgiveness

After Sam left, you changed into your sleep clothes, a pair of shorts that had seen better days, and a shirt, two sizes too big for you. At one time this shirt had belonged to Dean, but during a hunt he had offered it to you when yours had become unrecognizable due to blood, dirt and rips, and you had kept it ever since. 

Crawling into bed, you wrapped yourself as deep as you could into the shirt, the subtle aroma of Dean still evident in the faded cotton. Your headache started to fade away, and soon you felt your eyes drift closed. As you slowly shifted into unconsciousness, you missed the gentle opening of the door, and the shadow of a figure standing near your bed, a look of utter remorse crossing his face.

_____________________________

Shivering, you tried to pull the blanket up farther, but all you ended up doing was punching yourself in the face. Grumbling at the rude wake up call, you sat up, rubbing at the sleep clogging your eyes.

It took you a minute before you were thinking clearly enough to even attempt moving out of bed.  As your legs slid out of the warm cocoon of blankets and hit the frosty air, you noticed a figure slumped forward in the chair you had pushed in the corner of your room. 

Dean was sound asleep, his neck at an awkward angle as he rested his chin on his forearm, and you knew he would wake up with a horrible pain in his neck. He was still dressed in his clothing from yesterday,  and you wondered how long he had been sleeping in that chair.

Feeling sorry for the knucklehead, you slip out the door, planning on bringing him a cup of coffee and some aspirin before he wakes up.

Entering the kitchen, you noticed you weren't the only one up early, Sam was already sitting at the table munching on cereal and reading the local newspaper. Upon noticing you, he placed the paper down and winced in your direction. 

Raising you hand up to your forehead, you felt the tell tale signs of the unfortunate accident that had happened last night. You still had quite a goose egg on your forehead, a colorful one at that, but at least it no longer hurt.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, watching as you pulled down two mugs and began filling them with coffee.

"Fine." You replied, stirring some sugar into yours before turning to leave the room.

"Have you talked to Dean yet?" Sam asked, getting up to rinse his bowl. 

Shaking your head no, you returned back to your room, relieved to see that Dean hadn't woken up while you were gone. Setting the coffee cups down on the dresser next to Dean, you gently shook his shoulder, quietly saying his name.

As you expected, Dean woke with a start, his arms flailing everywhere as he tried to wake up and regain his balance. Stepping out of the way, you waited until he was looking up at you, one hand rubbing his neck, dark circles already forming under his eyes from lack of a good night's sleep.

"Here." You tell him, handing over the coffee and the pills. Gulping the pills down, he followed them with a sip of coffee,  not blinking an eye as the burning liquid made its way down his throat.

Taking his hand, you pulled him out of the chair and forced him to sit on the edge of the bed, before climbing behind him, kneeling on your knees.

"Y/N, I..." He started to say but you quickly hushed him, so instead he took another sip of coffee. Placing a hand on either side of his neck, you started rubbing, putting gentle pressure on the kinks you felt laying underneath the skin. Finding a particularly tight spot, you pressed harder earning a groan from Dean.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, you working on Dean's broad shoulders while he sat there, groaning and drinking his coffee. 

Feeling that most of his knots had disappeared, you stopped and sat down next to him, and he leaned over handing you your cup of coffee. It had already gone lukewarm, but you still drank it, needing a jolt of caffeine in your system. 

Dean tried once again to talk, his eyes focused on the bruise he had inadvertently caused, and this time you let him, knowing he wouldn't leave it alone until he got it off his system. "Y/N, I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me. I just had this sudden rage overtake me, and I couldn't seem to control my emotions or feelings. I know it's not an excuse, and I don't blame you if you want to beat my ass."

Once he finished talking, you sat there knowing your next move was very important to your relationship. You had already forgiven Dean, but he didn't seem to realize that, even though the neck rub was a good pointer. Knowing you weren't good at words, you did the only thing that came to mind, you leaned over and pressed your lips to his. 

At first, his lips stayed frozen shut, probably from shock, but then they started to move against yours, before finally opening, and you could feel his tongue start to slide between your lips and you welcomed it, opening your mouth on a moan.

Dean took that as an invitation, and he gently pressed your shoulders down, until you were lying down on the bed, your coffee forgotten on the floor.

Laying next to you, he changed his angle, deepening the kiss while one hand wrapped itself in your hair. Your hands moved, traveling down the broad expanse of his back, getting lost in the muscles bunching underneath his shirt. As your hands urgently moves under his shirt to feel the warm skin, a cough interrupted your heated make out session. 

"Oh shit, sorry!" Sam said, standing at the door, his eyes looking anywhere but at you and Dean. Growling, Dean pulled his lips away from yours, and looked at Sam.

"What?" He asked angrily, and you could see Sam gulp nervously. Sam was a fearless hunter, unless it came to clowns, or his brother's wrath.

"Cas just came by, said he found some clues about Abaddon's location, and I thought it was too important to wait." Sam said, inching towards the door.

Running his fingers through his hair, Dean gave you an apologetic look, before standing up. "Give us time to clean up, then we will be there."

Sam nodded, and left the room. Dean quick started pulling his shirt off, and even though the sight made you drool, you tried to reason with him. "Dean, I know we were in the middle of something but don't you think we should hurry up and go out into the main room?"

Dean turned and looked at you, and that's when you noticed he had a different shirt in his hands. Understanding dawned on his face, and he chuckled before pulling the shirt over his head. "Don't worry sweetheart, we will finish what we started." With that promise he left you alone in the room.

Blushing, you grabbed some clothes and hurriedly put them on, not wanting to miss any of the information.


	4. A New Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Some mention of attempted rape.

When Cas had dropped by with news, you had figured it would only be a couple of days until Abaddon was stopped, and Dean could lose the mark. Instead, Cas had given you a general location of her last whereabouts, nothing concrete to go on.

While you were thankful the Angel helped move your quest along, it was only a tiny step in the long maze to the finish line. Sam had taken that little stone of information, and went to Illinois to further investigate while you stayed behind with Dean.

Dean had argued with Sam, saying the three of you shouldn't split up, that Dean needed to be there in case Abaddon showed up. But you and Sam had started noticing the subtle changes in Dean. The way he constantly rubbed his arm where the mark was located, the amount of alcohol he poured down his throat, enough to down any normal man. Then there were his fits of aggression, and his urge of violence, and his lack of care. You weren't a shy schoolgirl, but the look of blood lust that sometimes came across his face gave you shivers, and there were many times you would end up hiding in your bedroom, not wanting to face the wrath that was Dean with the Mark of Cain.

Days after Sam had left, you found yourself searching for more information, cuddled up in one of the plush leather arm chairs located throughout the bunkers library. Dean had gone to town, probably to procure more alcohol, and you had the rare opportunity of time to yourself.

Staring blankly at the laptop, you let your mind wander to the time before Dean had the mark. He might not have been the most romantic boyfriend, but you had never minded. He had shown his love in different ways, letting you drive the Impala, or pick the road trip music. Sharing his pie with you, opening up to you, keeping an eye on you during a hunt. Those had been the subtle hints that showed exactly how much he really cared for you. It had been perfect, you weren't like the normal girls who expected chocolate and gifts, fancy dates and unfulfilled promises. Dean's way had been more sincere, and truthful. 

But lately, Dean's attitude toward you had gradually changed. You could pinpoint the exact moment, the night he came home with that stupid mark on his forearm. He hadn't exactly gotten physically violent towards you, but you had a feeling it was only a matter of time before that came into play, and it terrified you. You couldn't imagine leaving Dean, but you knew once he raised his hand to you, it wouldn't be a simple slap, and you might not be able to walk away from it. Sam had promised he would keep you safe, and Cas would come at a moments notice if he could, but you weren't sure that they could even handle Dean in one of his moods controlled by the mark.

But you were getting ahead of yourself. He was nowhere near the point of hitting you, almost the complete opposite. He was slowly pulling away from you, and it was heartbreaking to watch and have no control over. After that one heated morning, he had broken his promise to you, and you had never finished what you had started. He started staying up all hours of the night, finally stumbling his way into the bed you shared in the late morning hours, reeking of alcohol. He would lay as close to the edge as possible, instead of pulling you to him like you were used to. Falling back to sleep was hard, but when you would finally awake, he would be gone from the bed, the sheets cool to the touch. 

The slamming of the bunkers heavy metal door shook you out of your maudlin thoughts, and your eyes strayed to the stairs, where you could just make out Dean's heavy, weathered work boots  standing on the top step. Unsure what Dean's mood would be like, you stayed in your chair, out of Dean's sight, and watched as he slowly stumbled down the stairs, a heavy bag in his hands, probably filled with liquor. 

He missed the last step, and almost face planted, but caught himself at the last moment, impressively not dropping the bag. Cussing he sat it down on the large map table, before slumping into one of the chairs, throwing his legs up onto the table. Pulling the bag over to him, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and opened it, drinking straight from the bottle. 

Thinking it would be best if you snuck out of the library to your room, you quietly slid out of the chair and took one step to the hallway. But Dean's deep voice stopped you in your tracks. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Standing still, you didn't turn to face him, instead you talked over your shoulder. "To bed, I'm tired."

Dean didn't seem to care for your answer, you heard the whiskey bottle being slammed to the table in anger. "I don't think so, get over here." He ordered.

You complied, not wanting to anger him, because the mark would enjoy that too much, and you wanted to do everything in your power to keep Dean in control, not the mark. 

After what seemed like forever, you were finally standing in front of Dean, and you took in Deans appearance. He was wearing his normal faded jeans, a plain maroon flannel shirt open over a dark T-shirt. His chin was covered in stubble, his gorgeous green eyes rimmed in red.  His hair was standing ever more on end, from his hand running through it. 

"Sit. " He ordered, and you started to pull out another chair to sit on,  but Dean had pulled his legs off the table and was patting his legs. You hated that you were scared to sit on your boyfriends lap. 

Gingerly you sat down, your spine rigid, your upper body as far away from Dean as possible. He seemed content at first, taking another swig of his whiskey before handing you the bottle. Taking a big gulp, you enjoyed the way the liquid warmed you as it went down. 

The two of you sat that way, each taking sips of the alcohol, but neither saying a word. It was awkward, and you wished you could just forget about the last week and concentrate on the Dean you knew was still in there.

Taking a chance, you leaned back, letting your back rest against Dean's chest, and you relaxed for the first time in that moment, Dean's heartbeat lulling you. 

He placed the whiskey bottle down, and placed both hands around your waist, effectively trapping you in his embrace. At first you enjoyed his touch, it had been too long since you had felt his hands know you.  But his fingers kept tightening, and soon you moaned in pain. 

"Dean stop, you're hurting me!" You protested, but he just chuckled deeply and moved his hands up, under your shirt grasping your breasts roughly outside of your bra. Knowing you would hve bruises in the morning, you tried to slide off of his lap, but he tightened his hold. 

"Please." You begged, but he didn't relent, instead he grasped the front of your bra, ripping it apart, leaving your breasts free for his rough handling. 

Growling he stood up, holding you in his arms, slamming you onto the table. Before he could get a hold of you again, you scrambled to your hands and knees, trying to get away. As your hands found purchase on the chair on the other side of the table, you felt a hand grab your ankle, pulling you back. 

Screaming, you blindly kicked with your other foot, hearing a grunt, but the hold on your ankle tightened, and you groaned in pain. 

You felt yourself sliding backwards, before Dean moved his hands from your ankle to your waist, flipping you over so you were flat on your back. 

"Dean stop, this isn't you, it's the mark!" You tried again, but he wasn't listening, his hands were too busy grabbing the hem of your light T-shirt, before ripping it in half, your exposed breasts on display, angry red marks covering them. 

You heard someone sobbing, and realized it was you, and it was just spurring him on. He leaned forward and roughly pressed his lips to yours, and you bit down on his lip. It was the wrong move because the next thing you know you were getting a hand across your cheek. 

Tears falling freely down your stinging cheek, you looked at Dean, wondering if the love of your life was even in there, if he was trying to control the mark. He was panting heavily, and his green eyes were almost black, from lust and the control of the mark. 

You were so busy fighting against Dean, that neither of you registered another voice in the room, until a pair of arms were pulling Dean off of you, slamming him to the floor.


	5. Separation

After Dean was bodily removed, you scrambled for purchase on the slick table, finally half sliding, half falling off the other side, using the table as a shield from the scuffle that was happening on the floor near by.

Taking stock of your injuries, you knew that it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Of course you were going to be covered in bruises, but you had been lucky. If Sam hadn't shown up when he had, it made you shudder to even think about it. 

Using one of the chairs as cover, you tied your shirt together, trying to cover your exposed self as much as possible. It wasn't easy, Dean had done quite the job on it, but soon you were able to turn into some sort of a midriff top. At least it covered the important bits.

Glancing across the table you saw Sam pinning Dean to the ground, his muscles flexing under his red and grey plaid shirt showing how hard he had to work to keep Dean pinned.

You quietly crept around the table, your eyes on the fighting brothers the entire time. Sam was working hard on restraining his brother, all the while trying to talk him down from his rage. Dean, on the other hand, was completely in the red zone, his face full of rage and aggression. His lips were open in a snarl, and for a moment you could have sworn his eyes were black. 

Dean was tossing and turning his head, trying to find a way to overtake his brother. As he turned his head, he noticed you, and growled, trying anew to get out from under his brother. Sam's gaze followed his brother, and he noticed you standing there, your face already bruising. 

"Y/N, go to your room. Lock the door. Everything will be fine here." Sam yelled at you, before turning his attention back to his raging brother. Usually you weren't one to run from a fight, but you figured this time it would be in your best interest, seeing how you were already bruised and battered.

Throwing a glance over your shoulder as you raced down the hallway, you saw Sam take a mean jab to the shoulder, but soon you were too far down the hallway to notice anything else.

Rushing into your room, you slammed the door shut, before twisting the lock, making sure it was safe. Then you laughed to yourself, this was Dean with the Mark, a simple door lock wouldn't keep him out.

Plopping down on the edge of your bed, you took deep breaths, trying to calm your racing but troubled heart. Because as much as you wanted to hate him for what he did, you still knew that it was the Mark in charge, not your old Dean. 

Your eyes closed, you felt yourself start to relax, your heart beat slowing down as you stepped away from all the trauma that had so recently happened. 

Needing to clean the Marks residue from your skin, you strip on the way to your own private bathroom, one of the few rooms lucky enough to have one. Turning the water faucet to hot, you step under the waters scalding spray, letting the water cleanse your skin. Seconds turned into moments, and still you stayed that way, your eyes closed, your back taking the pounding pressure of the water.

Once the water started cooling, you grab your washcloth and started scrubbing. Everywhere Dean had touched, you scrubbed, until the already forming bruises were red and angry looking. Only then did you shut the water off, stepping out and wrapping yourself in one of the bunkers old scratchy towels. 

Checking to make sure your room was empty, it was still Dean's room also, you opened some drawers and grabbed the first things you could touch. It ended up being a pair of baggy , faded blue sweatpants, and one of your favorite tees, an old Ramones band tshirt that was faded, the hem loose in multiple parts. Comfy clothes, a perfect choice after your ordeal.

Wrapping your hair in the towel, you climbed into bed, leaning your back against the headboard, fully exhausted from today's experiences. Your eyes closed, you drifted in and out of consciousness, only the fear of Dean breaking into the room keeping you tethered to consciousness. 

After feeling your head nod off for the third time, you took the towel off your hair and threw it into the corner, a problem for another day. Planning on turning the light off and falling into oblivion, you were surprised, and a little nervous to hear a knock at the door.

Looking around for any sort of weapon, you relaxed when Sam's voice came through the heavy wooden door. "Y/N, are you awake? I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Unlocking the door, you stepped back to let Sam in, checking the hallway to make sure Dean wasn't with him. As soon as Sam was fully in the room, you shut it, turning the lock once again.

Sam looked a little worse than before, his plaid shirt ripped and bloody in spots, his lip busted, and a shiner forming on his right eye. 

As you sat down on the edge of the bed, he gave you a reassuring smile before lifting his hand and gently cupping your bruised cheek, the movement sweet and soft, contradicting his large hands.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have left you here with him by yourself." Sam started to say, but you shushed him.

"Sam stop it. We both weren't sure what he was capable of. But I know it was the mark, not Dean. We just need to hurry and kill Abbadon, then the mark will be gone and my Dean will be back."

Sam lowered his hand, and keeping his gaze pointed down, answered you. "I'm amazed at how much belief you have in him. He almost raped you an hour ago, and here you are, still defending him."

You take his hand in yours, gently squeezing it. "Because that wasn't him back there, not really. It was the Mark needing an outlet, something to feed it."

"I hope so. Because the Dean I know would have never done anything like that. I'm so sorry you had to go through that." He apologized again.

Just then a smile crossed his face, and he glanced up at you, hope in his eyes. "After all this I forgot to tell you."

His excitement rubbing off on you, you let go of his hand and stood up, your hands on your hips as you not so patiently waited for his news. "What Sam? What didn't you tell me? After today I could really use some good news."

Sam stood up, placing both hands on your shoulders. It was then you realized how much Sam meant to you, he was like a brother, a close friend, something you've never really had before. Something you didn't want to lose, someone besides Dean that you would do anything for.

"I found her. I've been able to locate Abaddon."


	6. Desperation

That night you found yourself too pent up with emotion and energy to sleep, even though you were utterly exhausted from your ordeal. Sam had left your room, promising that you would leave first thing in the morning on your quest to find Abaddon. 

Laying in the bed, staring at the ceiling, you thought about your life so far, how nothing had ever been easy or normal. Growing up, you played with knives and guns, learning how to shoot before you could ride a bike, naming all the monsters while you learned your alphabet. Maybe not the greatest childhood, but it had been yours, and you had been loved by two amazing parents. 

After they had died, you had thought your heart would never be able to love again, that the death of your parents had left too wide a hole to ever fill. Boy had you been wrong, Dean had come swooping in, filling that hole, making your heart swell to the point of bursting with love. It was an easy romance, as easy an any hunters relationship could be.

Thats what made it so hard to see him like this, your kind, funny, but ruthless hunter now cold, and detached,  a shell of the former hero. It was terrifying, and you weren't sure how much more you could handle.

Tossing onto your side, you watched the numbers on the clock move, inching towards the time when you could get up and get ready to leave. Your eyelids never drooping, you watched as the numbers grew closer to morning, and finally you had had enough and you decided to get an early start.

Throwing your covers back, you climbed out of bed, groaning at how stiff and sore your entire body was. Stumbling in the dark to your bathroom, you flipped the light switch and gasped. The person in the reflection looked nothing like you. Your once long and shiny beautiful hair was a ragged birds nest atop your head, your eyes surrounded by dark circles, giving away the fact that you had spent a few nights restless and awake. Your cheek was a brilliant mess of blue and purple, a nasty bruise had formed overnight. Your lip was split, making smiling near impossible. And that was just on your head, you were petrified to see the rest of your body. Peeling your shirt gently off, you winced at the sight before you. Both breasts were covered in purple, and blue, some in the shape of fingertips, others a wide circle of color. Your stomach was scraped from your tussle on the table, and more bruises were peaking from your sweatpants. You were not a pretty sight, and it broke your heart that Dean had caused this.

"Are those all because of me?" His deep voice sounded from behind you, filled with pain, causing you to jump. Grabbing your discarded shirt, you covered yourself, needing to feel some sort of barrier between Dean and you.

You glanced warily at him, unsure what type of Dean you were dealing with this early in the morning. Stubble graced his chin, his eyes matching yours with black circles underneath. He was standing in the door frame, his hands nervously playing with the handle. He seemed so lost, and unsure, that for a moment you felt yourself stepping forward, ready to console him. Then you remembered, he was volatile, and you were still wearing the bruises to prove it.

So instead you stayed where you were, your shirt bunched in front of your chest, your knuckles white from holding it so tightly, as you answered his question with a quiet nod of your head.

Upon seeing your answer, Dean groaned, running his fingers through his short hair. "Damn it!" He cussed, and you jumped, afraid he might attack you once again. 

Noticing your nervousness, he quickly apologized, holding his hands up to show he meant no harm. "I'm so sorry Baby. I can't believe I would do something like that, to you of all people."

"Dean I." You started, then stopped, not knowing what to say. You knew this had changed your relationship, and nothing you could do, or say, would change that fact.

"I get it. And I also understand if you want me gone. As soon as this hunt is over, we will figure something out, I promise. And I won't allow myself to be alone around you, it would kill me if I did something else to you." Dean said, tears forming in his eyes at the realization that because of the mark he had probably lost you.

Just then Sam burst through the door, his long brown hair standing on end, as he glanced quickly between the two of you, checking to make sure you were alright. "I'm sorry Y/N, I was keeping an eye on him, but he slipped out. Is everything okay?"

You nodded yes, even though nothing was fine, and wouldn't be, not until that Knight of Hell was killed once and for all. Because of rhat, your relationship was on the rocks, and might never be salvageable. 

"Good, we leave in 20." He replied, before grabbing Dean and forcefully removing him from your room.

\---------------------------------

20 minutes exactly, you were sitting in the back seat of the Impala, ear buds in as Dean pulled the Impala out off the garage. Turning your music up loud enough to drown out the rest of the world, you turned to gaze out the window, settling in for one of the longest, most awkward car rides of your life.


	7. Road Trip

At the first stop you learned your lesson, that the bruises on your face caused more whispered conversations than you would have hoped for. Men and women alike gave you odd glances, before turning and whispering to their companions, some brazen enough to point your way. Upon using the restroom, you saw what everyone else was looking at, a haggard woman who looked like she had met the wrong end of a wall, or a fist.

Deciding that a big pair of sunglasses might help cover the bruise, you turned to leave when a lady opened the door. She automatically smiled up at you, before gasping in shock. She was a beautiful woman, age softening her features. Her once black hair was highlighted with gray, turning it a stunning charcoal, her blur, almost violet eyes framed by laugh lines. She was dressed nicely in ironed tan trousers, and a white, billowy, silk blouse.

"I'm sorry to stare my dear, but that really does seem painful." She said, her voice soft and gentle, as if she were talking to a wild animal.

"Not as bad as it could be." You answered, ready to push past her and make your way to the Impala, where Sam and Dean were probably already waiting for you.

Before you could go through the door, the lady placed a soft, manicured hand on your forearm. "I noticed you were with those two rugged, handsome men. Did one of them do this?" She qusstioned.

"It's not what you think." You replied, hating that it was exactly as she thought.

She placed a card in your hand, before moving so you could leave. "There's always help for those who need it. Please remember that."

You placed the card in your pocket, before buying the biggest pair of sunglasses you could find, sliding them on before heading back to the Impala. Sam smiled at you as you slid in, and Dean turned to look at you, his eyes freezing as he saw the bruise still peeking out from the bottom of the sunglasses.  Without saying a word, he faced the windshield and pulled the car onto the road once again.

"Where to now?" Dean asked, an edge to his voice.

Sam glanced at the GPS on his phone. According to Cas, she was last seen two towns over, a small, rural city that had recently seen more crimes happen than ever in their history. "Keep going down this road. We'll be there in about an hour."

That hour went by fast, with Dean staring the road down, Sam double checking his information and you? You sat in the back, silent and still, the thoughts in your head running a hundred different directions. If she was really there, would Dean really be able to kill her? Would he be able to come back from that type of high, it had taken Sam's gentle coaxing to bring him down after the last incident with the first blade. Then, after everything was said and done, would your old Dean come back to you, the mark well fed and sated? Or would he continue to feel the urge to feed the mark, his emotions more violent and unpredictable than ever. Is there a way to get rid of the mark?

All these thoughts plus many more kept running through your mind, keeping you occupied during the trip, and it wasn't until Sam shook your shoulder that you realized the Impala had pulled into the parking lot of a small, quaint hotel, with a distinctive Scandinavian feel to it. The walls were a dark wood, the trim inside and out painted with bright colors. The rooms were fresh and airy, pictures of meadows and flowers hanging on the wall. It was cozy and cute, a far cry from the sterile feel the bunker sometimes gave off.

Sam threw his bag on one bed before hurrying to the bathroom, leaving you and Dean to stare dubiously at the only remaining bed. 

"I'll just take the couch." Dean said, noticing how uncomfortable you seemed to be.

"No its alright." You stuttered, not wanting his big body to be on the cramped sofa, especially when he had a big job ahead of him. "We can share. We share a bed at the bunker."

Dean seemed surprised at your acceptance, still holding onto his forgotten duffle bag. "Are you sure? Especially after what happened last night, I thought you..." He started, but you wouldn't let him finish.

"Dean it's alright. Am I saying what happened last night was okay? No I'm not. But I know it was because of the mark, and besides, Sam will be in the same room. I'm safe." You replied, giving him a reassuring smile, which you meant for yourself as well.

Dean gave you a minute to change your mind, before throwing his duffle on the bed beside yours, just as Sam came out of the bathroom. He looked between you and Dean, before looking at you once again, needing your approval that this was okay. You slightly nodded, letting him know that you were okay with everything. 

Sam moved to the small table, pulling out his laptop and getting down to work. Dean started fidgeting with his guns, a sure sign that he was a little nervous about his upcoming job. Split between comforting him, and helping Sam, you decided research was the more important thing to work on. The faster you could find Abaddon, the faster Dean could get this overwith.

Sitting next to Sam, you went over Castiel's notes, while Sam looked for obvious Demon activity. It was then you noticed a clue. "Sam, I think I know where she is!" You exclaimed. 

Both Sam and Dean stood up, anxious to hear your news, both wearing a mixture of nervous excitement on their face. "Where?" They asked simultaneously. 

You held up Castiel's note, waving it in front of their faces. "It's all here, Demon omens, people dead, it's a circle around one main area, and I bet that's where she's staying."

"And, where's that area?" Dean asked, uncontrollably rubbing the mark that was half hidden by his rolled up shirt sleeves. 

"There is an old house smack dab in the middle of everything. That has to be it!" You said, excited and proud at your discovery.

Dean clasped his hands together in excitement, while Sam stood there, running his hands through his hair in thought. "We need to figure a way in. She probably has sentries, and will zap out before we can even get close."

"I don't think there's that many, not by what Cas wrote." You replied, looking at the chicken scratch on the paper to double check.

"So we go in tonight." Sam said.

"Sounds good." Both you and Dean replied at the same time, you settling on the bed to relax for a couple of hours until it was time to move. 

Dean paced around the room for a while, picking up his gun and randomly setting it down again, never quite able to focus on something for a long period of time. It was understandable, he had a big job tonight, and the mark was probably already feeling his anxious excitement. 

"I'm going to go get grub. You want anything?" He asked out of the blue, surprising you and Sam. Giving him your order, you watched him leave, an uneasy feeling settling into the pit of your stomach.

"Sam, what if we don't kill her?" You questioned, curious. Sam looked up from his laptop, a gentle smile on his face. 

"She will be dead by the end of the night. It means too much, to us, to the world, especially Dean. It's killing him that he can't be trusted around you, and he needs this done so he can be with you again."

You didn't reply, no reply was necessary, Sam knew your feelings on that matter. Instead you relaxed, knowing Dean would be back soon.

Thirty minutes later, you found yourself nodding off, the tv turned to a boring sitcom that you paid no attention to. "Sam?" You said your voice groggy.

"Hmm." He replied, still glued to his laptop.

"Shouldn't Dean have been back by now?" You said, sitting up and looking at the alarm clock next to the bed.

Sam glanced up, and followed your gaze to the clock, cussing when he realized how late it had gotten.

"Son of a bitch!" He cursed, standing up fast, almost knocking the chair down in his haste.

"What?" You asked, already thinking you knew the answer, a horrible feeling in your stomach. 

"He's gone without us. Dean's gone to kill Abbadon!" Sam answered, tugging on his coat, you quickly following suit.


	8. The Fight

Running around the hotel room, you quickly grabbed as many items as you could, Dean's gun, knives, your duffle bag that held a first aid kit along with your weapons, anything you could think of, ignoring the fact that none of these could kill Abbadon. That item had still been wrapped and locked securely in the trunk, the less time Dean held it the better, but now you realized it had made it easy for Dean's idiotic plan. 

While you were rushing around, Sam had his phone out, dialing Dean, hoping against hope that he was just taking too long getting food, that maybe he had stopped for beer. But when it went straight to voice mail, Sam turned and looked at you, a defeated and disappointed look on his face.

After Sam had gathered a few items of his own, the two of you made your way to the parking lot. Knowing time was wasting, Sam glanced around, making sure you weren't being watched, before checking cars for any that had been left unlocked. He was lucky on his third try, a nondescript late model sedan that had definitely seen better days, the paint faded. Within seconds, Sam had it running, and throwing the bag in the back you climbed in, double checking to make sure you weren't noticed.

You were lucky, no one was chasing you out of the parking lot, and Sam stepped on the gas, pushing the car as fast as its poor engine would allow. Feeling helpless, you tried calling Dean again, slamming your hand on the dash when it went straight to voice mail. Dean must have turned his phone off, you fumed, furious that Dean would do this. But, deep in your heart, you had had a feeling that Dean would have done something like this, it was one of his signature moves.

The house was a good ten minutes away, but Sam made it in 8, squealing tires as he took turns too fast, honking at people as he sped past them down the quiet neighborhood streets. You kept checking behind you, hoping you hadn't caught the notice of a police officer, but so far no blue and red lights flashed in your rear window.

Sam turned onto the final street, a short, fairly secluded street that only included 3 large, Victorian style houses. The Impala was parked down the street from the only one that needed repair, it's shingles falling, and the paint peeling from the front porch. Sam slammed to a stop behind the Impala, and the two of you climbed out, dissapointed to see it empty. 

Opening your bag, you pulled out your gun and some knives, handing Sam the Demon killing one. Sam already had his gun tucked into the back of his pants, and was ready to go. The two of you crept up to the house, trying to stay under the cover of the large trees lining the sidewalk. There were overgrown bushes surrounding the house, and you and Sam used it as coverage, coming up on the side of the house. the windows were tall, higher than your point of view, so Sam was the only one able to glance inside. 

"Damn it." He whispered,  keeping his head to the side so he wasn't spotted.

"What?" You asked, fearing the worst. 

Sam turned his gaze from the window, and guided you to a secluded corner, away from the prying eyes that could be anywhere. 

"He's in there." Sam started. "And he's not alone. Abaddon is in there, along with Crowley. 

"Crowley? What the hell is he doing there?" You asked, shocked.

Sam shrugged. "I have no idea, but it seems like he can't move, he's stuck in a chair."

You thought abut it a moment, before you understood. "He's there to help Dean. He wants her dead just as much as the rest of us!"

Agreeing, you and Sam quickly hatched a plan, deciding the best course of action would be coming in from the back and trying to sneak up and help Dean as much as possible. 

"Stay behind me." Sam warned. "Abbadon will go for anything she considers Dean's weakness, and you are definitely it. Also, if he does kill her, we have no idea how he's going to react. I just need you to stay safe."

Knowing Sam just had everyone's best interest at heart, you agreed, even though you wanted to be in the thick of everything. Making sure the coast was clear, the two of you moved to the back of the house, encountering only one Demon, who Sam quickly took care of with his demon knife. 

Opening the back door, you noticed the kitchen was empty, and you quietly crept down the hallway, stopping outside the door, trying to gauge what was going on in the room.

You heard Crowley complaining from his chair, something about a lamp that attacked him. Abbadon was ignoring him, laughing and from the sounds of it, toying with Dean. Dean was silent, and you were worried, fretting that he was trapped, or hurt.

"Sam, what's happening?" You whispered as quietly as you could, but it was a mistake. As a Knight of Hell, Abbadon had amazing hearing, and she heard your voice. 

Knowing you were already screwed, the two of you burst into the room, guns held high as you took in the situation. Crowley was still in his chair, a gash on his forehead from being attacked by the flying lamp. Abaddon was in the middle of the room, her red hair flowing behind her, wearing black jeans and a black leather jacket, her lipstick a bright red as she laughed at Dean, her hand held high and twisted.

Dean was pressed against the wall, presumably from Abbadon's powers, the first blade laying on the floor. He was bruised and bloody, but otherwise unharmed.

Abbadon looked at you and Sam, and with a sinking heart you realized you had forgotten Sam's orders, and you were currently standing beside him, not behind like he had requested. 

"Well who do we have here?" She purred, her attention on you, and not on the fact that Dean was somehow summoning the blade to him, with only moving his finger. 

You gasped in shock, and Abbadon turned to see what had garnered your attention.  "But how?" She asked, shocked. She watched as Dean fought her power, the first blade wiggling on the floor before flying to Dean's hand.

Her mouth wide open, Abbadon could do nothing but watch as Dean took one hard step, then another fighting against her control. She tightened her hand, but it didn't stop him, and you stood in shock as he strode over to her, plunging the blade into her stomach, hard enough to lift her off the floor. She screamed, loud enough that you covered your ears, before a bright orange light flashed out of her, almost blinding you in the process. She then went limp on the blade, and Dean let her fall to the floor, before pulling the blade out. 

Before you and Sam could congratulate Dean on finishing the job, he raised the fist grasping the blade, smashing it down on her face. Again and again he beat her with the handle of the blade, hard enough that blood flew everywhere, and all you could do was stand there, speechless as he beat her body to a bloody pulp.


	9. Running Away

You and Sam were both frozen in shock, watching as Dean kept hitting Abbadon's lifeless body, his eyes dark, and full of rage, his face and shirt splattered dark red with her blood. It was a gory, and scary scene in front of you, and neither of you were sure what to do, or if you even wanted to attempt to stop it. When the Mark turned Dean into a bloodthirsty killing machine it was almost impossible to bring him back. 

"Well I'm out. Later Moose, Y/N." Crowley said. Without Abaddon holding him to the chair, he transported out, leaving you on your own.

"Dean." Sam said, loud enough that Dean could hear, but gentle enough to not startle him. It didn't garner his attention, but by then he had stopped mutilating the body, and he was sitting back on his haunches, exhausted.

"Dean, it's okay. You can drop the blade now." You told him, taking a careful step forward. Dean looked up at you, the look on his face stopping you in his tracks. It was a mixture of remorse, pride, and guilt, a unique combination. 

"Y/N?" He finally spoke, his voice hoarse as if he had been screaming. 

Sam whispered in your ear, "You try to calm him down, I'm going to the Impala to get stuff to deal with her. Be careful."

You nodded as Sam left, Dean's eyes following his movements until you could no longer see him. Dean seemed like a lost little puppy, unsure and confused. It broke your heart to see him like this, to know that a mark on his arm could turn your brave and fearless hunter into a brainless killing machine, void of all emotion. 

"Dean, it's just me. I'm going to come over to you, make sure your alright. Can you drop the blade? " You kept talking as you slowly moved closer, taking careful steps as your eyes never left Deans. He stared at you, his beautiful green eyes almost vacant, surrounded by splattered blood. However, he never let go of the blade, and you tried again.

"Dean you did it, you killed Abbadon, I'm so proud of you. But it's over now, can you drop the blade? Please, for me?" You kept saying, and finally you were standing next to Dean, looking down at the love of your life, your heart sad for what he had been degraded too. Because he was such a hero, he had sacrificed his body for a weapon, never realizing the effect it would have on him.

The blade still clutched tightly in his hand, so tight the knuckles were white, his arm shaking from the strain, you gently laid your hand on his shoulder, hoping the familiar contact would break him out of this state, and your old Dean would come back.

You got a result, just not the kind you were ready for, or even wanted. As soon as your hand touched him, he shot up off the floor, breathing heavily as he held the blade to your neck. Fear froze you to the spot, you were afraid that Dean would accidentally kill you while still in this daze.

"Dean, please, it's me Y/N, you don't want to do this. Put the blade down." You whimpered.

He didn't listen, but your voice seemed to spur him on, because soon he was slamming you against the wall, the blade digging in to your neck painfully. 

"Ouch!" You cried out, the wrong thing to do, because Dean still seemed to be lost in a blood lust, and the sound of someone suffering seemed to excite him, because he smiled and pressed the blade closer.

"Y/N?" He said again.

With the pressure of the blade you weren't able to talk so you stood there, your body shaking, pressed against the wall. He took the blade from your neck, before slicing your cheek with it. Wishing Sam would hurry up, you withstood the pain, but the sight of blood seemed to spur Dean on, and soon he was using the blade to slice all over your body.

"Dean stop!" You begged. "This isn't you! I love you." You said, hoping those three words would kick him out of this state. They seemed to do the opposite, because he leaned forward, his eyes level with yours, and you could see how empty and dark they seemed, nothing like the usual green orbs that you loved. 

"Love?" He spat. "Love is a stupid feeling,  it doesn't matter. What matters is blood, and revenge. Killing, that's what matters to me. Not you, you're just pathetic, a waste of air. I'll be doing the world a favor, getting rid of someone as weak as you. I don't know what I saw in you in the first place. " He said. 

You tried reminding yourself this wasn't Dean, this was the mark talking, but it was hard. It was Dean's lean, but sturdy body holding you to the wall, his callused hand wielding the blade, his usually loving eyes staring at you, uncaring. Your Dean was long gone, and this Dean was going to kill you.

"No!" You screamed. "This isn't you, it's the mark. Snap out of it!" But he just laughed at you.

"No, it's both of us, and I like it." He stated, before shoving the blade into your shoulder, and you screamed out in pain. Just then  you heard footsteps running up, and Sam's frightened voice from behind Dean.

"Dean, stop it! He yelled, yanking his arm back, which pulled the blade from your shoulder. 

Free from the wall, you didn't look back, you ran, your pain forgotten on a burst of adrenaline. Out of the house, down the walkway, turning left on the sidewalk, the Impala blurred in your vision as you kept running, away from everything. It was too much, the bloody scene of Abaddon, Dean's voided eyes, and his unapologetic violence towards you. It had always been directed towards you, never Sam, and you knew if you stayed, he would eventually kill you. 

You were so occupied running away, that you didn't have a clue where you were. You were no longer in the nicer neighborhood of town, most of the houses were shabby, or unoccupied, an air of neglect and misuse throughout the whole neighborhood.

You slowed down to a walk, surveying your surroundings as you wiped your eyes. You knew the best thing would be to turn around and let Sam protect you until you could get away on your own. But you were stubborn, and afraid, and you kept walking, shivering as dusk started to settle in. 

You turned a corner, hoping to find a Gas Station or store to ask for directions, when you saw a person walking your way. His head was down, his clothes ratted and torn, his dark blonde hair messy and unkempt. He looked like a homeless man, and you tried to quickly walk by him with your head down. As you passed by, he reached out and with a surprisingly strong grip he grasped your wrist.

Trying to yank your arm away, you stared in horror as the man's eyes turned black. 

"Well, how did I get so lucky? The Winchester's woman falls right into my lap. Crowley's going to be so happy." He said, and that was the last thing you heard before darkness.


	10. Locked Away

It felt like a jackhammer was pounding away in your skull, was your first thought as you slowly came too. 

A headache of magnitude proportions was currently residing in your head, and you were afraid to open your eyes. You attempted to remember what had happened to lead up to this killer headache, maybe a drunken night with Dean, or maybe the mark had him a little more handsy than normal. Whatever it was, you promises to yourself that you would never do it again,  the results were too hard to deal with. 

Forcing your eyes open,  you realized that both of your previous assumptions were wrong, and everything that happened came ramming back into your already pounding skull, and you moaned. 

"The princess awakes, finally." A deep and British accented voice spoke, the voice coming from somewhere on your right. Rubbing the blurriness from your eyes, you turned and looked, not surprised to see Crowley sitting in a chair next to you. You were lying on a small, rickety cot, with a thin mattress between you and the metal springs, a light blanket thrown over your body. You were no longer in your blood covered clothes, instead you were dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a plain white shirt. The walls were stone, no windows in the small room, and you had no clue where you were.

"What the hell Crowley?" You asked, furious at the King of Hell.

He just shrugged,  a curious look on his face, like he was almost trying to act innocent.  "Can't I just want to spend some time with you?"

You laughed at that, knowing it was nowhere near the truth.

"Fine." He grumbled. "One of my minions found you floundering about, and decided it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. So here you are."

"I already figured that, but what do you want with me?" You asked, still unsure. 

Crowley stood up, and started pacing the small room. Between the chair and the bed, there was just enough room to move back and forth. "I needed you out of the way. You were causing too much conflict for Dean, and I really need him to concentrate on the mark. So, you will just have to stay here for awhile."

Growling in anger and frustration, you jumped off the bed, intent on strangling Crowley, but with a snap of his fingers, he had you thrown back on the bed.

"We can do this one of two ways darling." Crowley said, while you fought against his telepathic hold. "You can stay here, until I'm finished with Dean, and then I will let you go. But if you fight me, then we will have to go to plan two."

And what's plan two?" You asked, know you would always try to escape.

"Well my dear. Thats for me to know, and you to find out. I don't care which plan you follow, as long as you are far, far away from Dean."

Crowley turned to leave out of the only door in the room, letting you free of his hold. Before you could rush him, the door was slammed shut, and you were locked into the room.

"Damn it." You muttered, looking for anything to help you, but there was nothing. Just a chair, and a bed. Not even a toilet, or sink. 

You sat back down on the bed, wondering what was happening with Sam and Dean, if Sam was still trying to bring Dean down from the mark, if they were out looking for you, or if they didn't even care.

With nothing else to do, you curled back down on the bed, closing your eyes, but sleep would not come. Frantic with thoughts of how long you would be stuck here, what would happen if you tried to escape, and if Sam and Dean would ever find you. It was quite disconcerting, to know you were at the mercy of other people, stuck in a small room, with no chance of escape.

\--------------------------

Hours later you hadn't moved, still laying in the same spot on the bed, the mattress under neath your head soaked from useless tears. You had to use the bathroom, but so far no one had come to check on you. 

Beyond frustrated,  you flopped off the bed and strode to the door, banging as hard as you could with your fist. After about a minute of not giving up, the door opened slightly, and a stony faced man peeked through. "Yes." He asked in a monotone voice. 

"I'm hungry, and I have to pee." You told him.

He tilted his head in acknowledgement,  before slamming the door in your face. 

"Wait!" You yelled, but it was too late, he didn't answered you. So frustrated you felt tears start to well up in your eyes again, you sat down in the chair.

As soon as you sat down, the door opened, and the same guy came walking into the room, a tray with a sandwich and a glass of water on it.

"First bathroom." He told you, his voice still that flat, emotionless tone.  You stood up, and walked over to him, looking up until your gaze finally hit his face. You were used to tall, after all your best friend was a Moose, but this man was tall, and built like a wall. Even if you tried to escape, you were afraid this man could kill you with one squeeze of his arm.

He roughly grabbed your arm, pulling you down an empty hallway, with doors identical to yours lining one side. Where the hell am I? You asked yourself, before he opened a door, pushing you inside and slamming the door shut behind you, grumbling "five minutes,  no more."

After quickly using the toilet, and splashing water on your face, you glanced around the small, stark bathroom, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon, or an escape, but you came up empty.

Soon your five minutes were up, and Bruto (your nickname) had the door open, and your arm in his grasp again. Roughly shoving you back into your room, he shut the door, and you were once again alone, at least this time with food.


	11. Chapter 11

After ample time had passed, it was hard to tell how many days with no natural light, you were frustrated, bored and ready to escape.

By measuring Bruto's visits, you concluded that you had been here for at least a week maybe more. Bruto would take you to the bathroom what seemed like three times a day, offering you food twice. Each time you studied everything you could, trying to find a  way to escape, or some sort of weapon. The last time you had gone to the bathroom, you had noticed Bruto had been a little slack, not holding your arm, but walking in front of you. Just maybe, you could finally get out of this hell hole.

That morning, or at last what you thought was morning, you were ready, your nerves on high alert, hoping he was just as lack today as he had been yesterday. The door opened, and he stood there, a bored expression on his face. As you came closer, he turned and started off, not even waiting for you. So far, everything was going perfect. As soon as he came to the bathroom, he opened the door and waited for you. You went to walk inside, but at the last minute pushed him. It startled him so much that it worked, he fell backwards into the room.

Locking the door, you ran down the hallway, past dozens of doors, trying to find one that looked promising. You could hear Bruto banging behind you, and you knew it wouldn't be long before your escape was noticed. Finally you came to a T intersection, and you turned left, hoping you chose wisely. It was a short hallway, with a door at the end. Taking a deep breath you pushed through the door, gasping in relief when you realized you had made it outside. 

The fresh air smelled amazing, and you took a deep breath before running once again. You had no idea where you were headed, but as long as it was away from there you were fine with it.

Surrounding the small metal building you had been trapped in was a long grassy field, and you steered towards the trees that ran the end of the field, locking in on them as your Destination. Lungs burning, you ran as fast as you could, your legs cramping from the lack of movement the past week. By the time you reached the trees you were exhausted, but happy that your plan had worked so far. 

Leaning against a tree, you had your eyes closed, trying to catch your breath when a voice filled you with dread. "I tried to warn you. Why didn't you listen to me?"

Crowley was sitting on a stump in the middle of the trees, acting as if it was a throne, and he didn't have a care in the world. He was still dressed in his clean cut black suit, and for a moment you wanted to smear mud all over it, just to spite him. "You knew I would try to escape. I couldn't stay there."

He stood up, brushing imaginary dirt from his suit, before speaking again. "We both knew you would try to escape, I had just been hoping you would have been smarter than that. Now we have to go to plan B."

You started backing up, planning on trying to run away again, knowing it was futile but needing to try again. After two steps, you turned and ran, only getting five feet before running smack into Crowley's chest. 

"My dear, when will you learn you can't run from a Demon. Now come on, I need to take you to plan B." He said, grasping your arm. Before you could do anything, he had transported you, and now you were standing in a new room, one that looked about the same as your last, but at least this one included it's own bathroom.   
"Another cage?" You asked. You had thought plan B would have been much worse.

"Oh no, this is just where you will sleep when you aren't working, which won't be often. I just brought you here so you could get cleaned up, and in your uniform."

"My uniform?" You asked, confused.

"Well yes, since you couldn't be a good little girl and stay put, I have a new place to keep you far away from Dean Winchester. He will never think to look for you here."

With that being said, Crowley pushed you into the bathroom, and shut the door behind you. No matter what happened next, a shower sounded amazing, and you decided to take a quick one, not trusting Crowley to barge in on you. Turning the water to hot, you climbed under the spray, moaning as the water poured over you, feeling clean for the first time in a while. There was soap and shampoo for you to use, and you cleansed yourself, feeling much more human.

Turning the water off, you noticed with dismay that Crowley had been in the bathroom while you had been in the shower. Your dirty clothes had been taken, and in its place was a small pile of cloth, surely not big enough to be considered clothing. You take a piece, and held it in front of you, trying to figure out if it belonged on the top or bottom. 

"Um Crowley? How does this go on?" You asked through the closed door.

"Open the door, and I will help you." He said, and making sure your towel was securely in place, you opened it. He stood in the doorway, and with a click of his fingers you were dressed. If you could call yourself dressed. The bottoms were hot shorts, very tight spandex, a deep red color. The top was a crop top, ending right below your breasts, with a deep V that showed most of your cleavage. You felt exposed, and uncomfortable. 

"Here." Crowley said, handing you a pair of knee high black boots. Sliding the boots, you turned to him once again. Crowley snapped his fingers again, and you looked in the mirror, noticing your hair was now dried and fixed in a sleek pony tail, with heavy eyeliner and red eye shadow gracing your eyes. Your lips were painted a deep red, and you no longer recognized yourself in the mirror.

"Now what? Please don't say I'm a stripper, because I can't dance to save my life." You told him, hands on your hips, just biding your time until he was gone and you could try to escape again.

"No, not a stripper. Follow me." Crowley said, holding the door open for you. Once you were in the hallway, he grasped your arm, and you walked down the hall, nerves rattling you. 

As you came closer to the door at the end, sounds of partying became louder, and you glanced at Crowley in dismay. He just smiled, before opening the door, and shoving you inside. What you saw shocked you to the core.


	12. Your New Job

What you saw in front of you shocked you to your core, you never would have imagined anything like this. You weren't sure exactly what this was, but you knew it probably wouldn't be good.

You were standing at the edge of a large room, filled to capacity with patrons, men and women alike. The room was dark, flickering candles gracing the black wooden tables, with discreet hanging lamps above a long gleaming ebony bar. There was a dance floor on the other side, filled with moving bodies, as a DJ kept music pumping through the entire room.

There were girls dressed similar to you, carrying trays full go drinks, working fast to keep the customers happy. Each girl seemed tired, like they were working on auto pilot.

It seemed like a normal club, until you looked closer. With the low lighting you could just make out the glowing eyes of werewolves, the sharp fangs of vampires, the blue tattoos of Djinn. You were smack dab in the middle of a supernatural club.

What the hell Crowley?" You asked.

He didn't say anything, instead he just gave you a sly smile. "You wouldn't stay put, now you will have to wait on the things you hate most, monsters."

"And if I don't?" You smarted off, inside cringing at the thought of working for monsters. 

"Then I run out of options, and you will be strung up in hell. Your choice, either serve these customers, or get tortured for as long as I deem appropriate."

"Just serving them drinks?" You questioned, fearing the answer.

"No." Crowley almost purred into your ear, waving an older woman over. "You will have to feed them too, however and whatever they need, be it blood, fear. They know not to take too much, but accidents happen."

Just then the lady arrived, bowing to Crowley. "My liege." She was an older Asian lady, fine lines around her eyes the only give away to her age. She was dressed in a sharp black dress suit, and had an air of authority surrounding her.

"This is your new server girl Y/N." Crowley told her, pushing you forward. 

The lady looked up at you in surprise. "Y/N? As in Dean Winchesters Y/N? Is it smart to have her here?"

"It's my last resort. Keep her here, keep her busy. She will try to escape. If she does, it's on your head." Crowley growled.

Gulping she nodded. "Yes my king."

He turned to leave, throwing parting words over his shoulder. "Oh, and make sure the customers don't know who she really is, or they will kill her."

With that he was gone, and you were once again alone, this time with a significantly bigger problem on your hands. 

"I see he gave you the uniform, and a room. Come with me to my office, and we will set you up the rest of the way." She said, and you knew you had no choice but to comply.

As you followed her through the crowds, you felt multiple eyes on you, turning around you saw an older man liking his lips as he looked you up and down, showing his vampire teeth. Shuddering in disgust, you moved forward, feeling hands reach out, sliding over your skin, one punching your butt, causing you to jump. Throwing up your hands, you turned in a circle, looking for the culprit. "Alright, who's the jerk who grabbed my ass?" 

Nobody answered, instead you were surrounded by cheering, and shuffling, bodies trying to get closer to you. "Fresh meat." You heard someone say, and for a moment you wished you had stayed back in that tiny cell. Boredom would have been better than this.

"Let her go." The lady's voice rang through the crowd, and they parted easily, following her command without complaint. She pulled you with her, and this time you ignored the wandering hands, and the last full stares, sighing in relief when you were behind her office door. 

"We haven't been fully introduced. I'm Sally, and I run this club for my King. Sit." She explained as she rounded a deep cherry wooden desk, perching on the office chair behind.

Sitting in one of the small arm chairs on the other side, you glanced at your new surroundings. The room was small, but comfortable, the various furniture antique, the lighting soft.

She handed you a packet, and you opened it, noticing a small book, pills, and a small, leather bracelet covered in blue and red stones. "What are these for?"

"The book describes the rules of the club. Read it, know them by heart, it's the only way to survive here. The pills are so you can maintain your energy and health. You will be fed on, and often, and they will help your rejuvenate much faster. The bracelet is a tracker, to make sure you don't escape, and to make sure a customer doesn't attempt too much. Put it on now."

You did as she commanded, feeling a bolt of electricity slam through your body as it touched your skin. 

"The only way it will come off now is with a spell. A spell only I have. Now on to working arrangements. You will work six days a week, having Tuesdays off. We are only open in the evenings. You will serve drinks, dances, and food if they request it. You may keep your tips, for you will have earned them. Do not let them try to turn you. If they try, press a blue stone on your bracelet."

"Is that all?" You asked sarcastically, hiding the fact that you were scared. How could Sam and Dean ever find you in a place like this. 

"No. From now on you are no longer Y/N. Too many monsters know that name, know who it's tied to. You will be called Lily. Answer to it, forget about your old life, your old name. It doesn't exist anymore. Now, go back to your room, you start tomorrow."


	13. Reunited

6 months later

"Come on doll, just one more bite." A younger man, a vampire whispered in your ear, as he held your arm, keeping you from moving. You could tell he was freshly turned, his appetite was insatiable, he had already fed on you three times that evening.

"Sir, you know the rules. Ask for another girl." You said, exhaustion making your voice low and hoarse. He wasn't the only one to feed from you that evening, and your body was starting to resist the help of the pills, so you always felt worn out, your neck covered in bites because you weren't able to heal easily anymore.

6 months in this club were probably worse than being in hell. Each night you were groped, squeezed, bit and anything else they could think of and you would fall exhausted into your bed, knowing it would be the same exact thing tomorrow. At first you had had Tuesdays off, but when you became the most popular girl on staff, that was quickly taken from you, along with the tips you had been promised.

Now you just stumbled around the club floor, too tired to notice if someone copped an extra feel of your breasts, or groped your butt. It didn't matter, nothing did. You were starting to forget life before the club, the love struck huntress turned into a walking food machine.

"Come on Lily, I'll even make it feel good." He purred into your ear, pulling you down onto his lap, and brushing the hair from your nape.

"It's not my choice. I'm sorry." You explained, trying to make a futile effort at getting away, but your limbs wouldn't follow the directions from your brain.

He leaned down, kissing the skin of your neck, running his tongue back and forth, and you sat there, knowing you were in no shape to fight it.  Just as he opened his mouth to bite, you heard Sally's voice from behind you.

"Sir, she is at her limit, and you know that. Either find another girl, or leave, I don't care which."

He growled deep in his throat, annoyed that his meal was being taken away from him. He pushed you off of his lap,  and you crumpled to the ground, oblivious to the pain. Pain was nothing new to you, you've lived in constant pain for the last six months. 

Watching him leave, Sally stood over you, making sure no one else took advantage of a weak human, which happened way too often in this club. Since you've been there, over a dozen waitresses have died, and you were now officially the longest running waitress they had. In a way you wish you had been one of the dozen.

Sally grabbed your arm, and with surprising strength pulled you to your feet, holding on as she guided you through the crowd my on her way to the office. 

Once inside, she let go, and you fell into the chair, waiting for her disapproval that you couldn't stop a customer. 

You watched as Sally paced the office, and you realized not much had changed since your last time in this office, 6 months ago. 

"We're you really going to let him feed on you again?" She said, turning to face you, her hands on her hips.

"I wasn't sure I had a choice. I wasn't able to fight him." You answered.   She was about to say more, but one of her underlings knocked on the door, interrupting her. 

"Ma'am, he's here." He said, keeping his eyes downcast in fear.

"Well don't just stand there, bring him in!" Sally yelled, before looking at you. "Damn it, we can't have you in here."

You tried to rise, but the effort was too much, and you sank back down onto the chair. Sally walked to the door, opening it to talk to one of her bodyguards that was keeping watch. He followed her in, and she pointed to you. Leaning down, he scooped you up in his arms with no difficulty, and started carrying you to the door, just as it opened.

You watched in disinterest as Crowley stood on the other side, his eyes wide as he gazed at you. 

"My liege."Sally purred from behind you. "Ryan is just removing her. I'm sorry for the delay."

Crowley looked at you a closely. "Y/N?" He asked.

"Who's Y/N? My name is Lily." You weakly answered,  knowing Y/N was long dead. There wasn't anything left that was even close to Y/N.

"She doesn't know what she's saying, she's been fed on too many times. She was Y/N, but she goes by Lily now."

Crowley's eyes darkened as he took in your appearance. Your once buxom figure was now thin, your hair flat and dull. Bruises covered your skin from greedy hands, your neck red and angry from too many bites. You knew you looked horrible, completely different from that girl six months ago, but the monsters didn't seem to mind. It wouldn't be long until you were dead anyways. 

"She stays." He ordered, and Ryan gently sat you back down in the chair. Crowley strode all the way into the room, sitting in the chair next to yours. 

"How can I be of service my King?" Sally asked, pouring him a glass of scotch.

"I need a place to bring an acquaintance of mine. He needs to let off some steam." Crowley explained. 

"Of course, anything you need." Sally answered. 

"Good." Crowley answered, before nodding at the smaller man who had walked behind him. He left, and seconds later returned with someone you had expected to never see again.

Dean walked through the door, acting as if he didn't have a care in the world. Standing next to Crowley, he gave one of his signature smiles to Sally, not noticing you. You were okay with it, it gave you a chance to observe the man who had meant so much to you at one point. His hair seemed longer than usual, but that seemed like the only thing that had changed. He was wearing a maroon flannel, rolled up to show the mark of cain.

You had waited six months for this man, or his brother, to come rushing through the door, guns blazing, looking for you. After three months of living in this hell, you had slowly grown accustomed to the fact that they weren't look for you, that they didn't care if you had lived or died. At first it had hurt, and you had thrown yourself into your job, letting anyone feed on you, not caring if you lived or died. Then your emotions slowly drained away, pain at being forgotten, sadness that nobody loved you enough to find you, hunger for the sun and your old life. It all went away, and you turned into the shell you were today.

Finally, Dean's eyes swept the room, widening when he saw you. "Well, what do we have here?" Dean asked in that familiar deep voice of his. "A new play toy for me?"

Crowley chuckled. "I wouldn't call her a new toy."

Dean's eyebrow rose at that tidbit of information. "What do you mean?" 

Crowley looked at you, before shrugged his shoulders. "Dean this is Lily, formerly known as Y/N."

You watched Dean's reaction, wondering if he would be surprised, or disgusted with you. He stared at you for a moment, before flicking his eyes black. "Hello Y/N. It's been a while."


	14. Distraught

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I accidentally deleted this chapter, so I'm reposting it now. Nothing has changed.

Shaking your head to try and clear it, you glanced at Dean again, knowing you had to have been wrong. There was no way the righteous hunter Dean Winchester would ever turn into a Demon. It had to of been a trick of the light, or maybe your exhausted and overworked mind playing tricks on you. Because you weren't sure you could handle the man you had loved being a Demon.

"Did you miss me Y/N?" Dean asked, coming to stand next to you, leaning down so his eyes were level with your own. Green eyes that you had dreamed about, knowing you would never see them again, were now a deep black.

"You're not Dean. What did you do with him?" You asked, finding a burst of energy, enough that you sat up a little, your voice stronger and more assured. 

A sly smile covered his face. "Oh sweetheart, it's the new and improved me." Dean smirked before going and standing by Crowley once again. 

Crowley stood up to leave, and Dean moved to follow him, shocking you. You weren't even important enough to warrant a conversation, or even an explanation, and it hurt.

Before Crowley left the room, he turned and glanced at you, before catching Sally's gaze.

"My liege, you brought her here, she is slowly becoming a burden to us. What would you like me to do?" She asked as if you weren't even in the room. The sad thing was you didn't even have enough energy to argue. You had used it on Dean. You knew you were done for, it was just a matter of time until they threw you out with the rest of the garbage.

Crowley really looked at you then, noticing how you could barely even hold yourself up in the chair. "I know this will come back to haunt me, but I don't care. Use her just like the rest of them, then let some poor vampire finish her off."

"Crowley." You heard yourself begging, falling out of the chair as you tried to ask for help.

"Bye love." He said, before slamming the door shut behind him. Dean had already left, not caring to stick around and here about your fate.

Sally came over, helping you back to your feet. "Here take this. It's usually never used for waitresses, but you are one of the favorites, and I would like you to last a little longer."

Taking the small purple pill, you immediately felt a difference. You felt energy coursing through your body, and for the first time in weeks you felt more like yourself again.

"This isn't a permanent fix, it will last a couple of hours. Now go out there, and get busy, it's Friday night. But no more feedings today."

You followed Sally's orders, making your way to the club floor, which was packed with monsters. Today you were supposed to be In charge of drinks, and you headed to the back of the bar to grab your apron and serving platter. Heading to your first table, you tried to ignore the fact that Crowley and Dean were sitting at a table further down. 

The club was so busy it was easy to ignore them at first, you were run ragged hauling drinks back and forth. Customers were demanding, and you had to pry hands off of your body more than a handful of times. Each time you would glance over, wondering if Dean had noticed, and if he was bothered by it. Every time you glanced over, Dean would have a new shot of whiskey in front of him, and one of the waitresses in his hands. It made you frustrated, and even though you had long given up hope that you would be rescued, it still hurt to see the man of your dreams that disinterested. Even if it was a Demon in his body.

It was then you came up with an idea. You would wait to see if Crowley would leave, then try to sneak behind Dean, and perform an exorcism. If any of the club workers saw you, you would be dead for sure, but it was worth a shot. If Dean was in trouble, you needed to save him, and then hopefully in return he would rescue you.

An hour passed before Crowley made any sign of movement. You had started to worry, your shift was due to end in an hour, and you weren't allowed on the floor after your shift. They didn't want you mingling for free. Once he stood up and moved back towards Sally's office, you started circling behind Dean, acting as if you were working, but brushing away the hands that would reach for you.

Finally, you were behind Dean, close enough to perform the exorcism, but far enough away to not make it obvious. "Exorcizamus te omnis immundus spiritus..." You started but were interrupted by a deep voice in your ear. You had been so busy concentrating on the exorcism, you hadn't noticed that Dean had moved, lightning fast, next to you.

"I wouldn't do that sweetheart, it's really me." Dean said, gripping your arm so tight that you knew there would be bruises.

"It can't be!" You sobbed, wondering what would happen next. Would he snap your neck, or worse, pretend he didn't care about you anymore.

"You see, after you ran away, I tried to kill Metatron, and all I got was stabbed in the chest. But the Mark doesn't want me to die, so here I am, and I'm loving it." Dean growled in your ear, just as Crowley returned.

"A problem Dean?" He asked, bored.

Dean glanced down at you, his eyes turning black, attempting to shock you again. You stayed silent, not wanting to give him the result he was looking for. He frowned, before turning to Crowley. "I want her to come with us." 

Crowley raised his eyebrow, shocked and confused. "Why? She left you, she doesn't care about you any more, she's better left here than anywhere else." Crowley tried explaining. 

"Crowley, that's not true! " You tried to argue, but both men ignored you.

Dean just shrugged. "Exactly. Because she left me when the Mark made me violent. If she thought I was violent then, she needs to see me now. And I still have some lessons to teach her." 

With that, Dean pulled you with him, towards the door you had never been close enough to, one that had always stated freedom to you. This wasn't how you expected freedom, and you feared you were going from one horrible situation to another.


	15. A New Game

Dean had your arm gripped tight as he opened the door, and you stumbled, your eyes blinded by the sunlight. It had been six months since you had seen the sun, and while it felt amazing upon your skin, it hurt your eyes.

"Come on." Dean grumbled, pulling harder on your arm. Using your free arm to shade your eyes from the sun, you were able to barely make out a gravel parking lot, surrounded by tall dense trees, making it a very secluded place. 

Dean drug you over to the side of the lot, and it was then you noticed the Impala. Or what was left of her. The majestic black shiny car was now dull, mud and dirt covering the glossy paint. Minor scratches ran throughout the body, causing you to wince in pain. As you came closer, you saw the dash covered in trash and filth, greasy handprints on the steering wheel and handles. 

"Dean, what happened to the Impala?" You cried, your heart breaking at the sight before you. 

Dean let go of your arm, shrugging his shoulder as he opened the back seat. "It's just a car." He muttered before shoving you inside. It was then you totally understood that this wasn't your Dean, he wasn't even the Dean with the Mark. This Dean was new, detached, powerful, and utterly scary. 

Crowley was standing at the side of the car, watching the interaction between the two of you with interest. 

"You getting in?" Dean asked, tilting his head to the car. 

"No thank you. I will meet you there." Crowley muttered before vanishing in front of your eyes. Dean didn't seem to mind, he just climbed behind the steering wheel, turning the key in the ignition.   
You stayed silent, at first just enjoying the fact that you were no longer in the club of hell. The sun felt amazing on your skin, and being able to see trees, and flowers was something you would never take for granted again.

"Where are we going?" You finally asked, yelling to be heard over the rock that was blaring through the speakers. 

"She speaks." He teased. "I have a motel room not too far from here." He explained. 

"Where's Sam?" You inquired, curious about your best friend.

You were watching Dean through the rear view mirror, and as soon as you said Sam's name, Dean's eyes flashed black, and a snarl curled on his lips.

"Don't talk bout Sam. I told him to let me go. Next time I see him, his blood will be covering these hands." Dean threatened, turning down the radio, and you shrunk back in your seat, his words scaring you. 

Not wanting to upset Dean anymore, you stayed quiet, your gaze on the scenery that passed, your mind on what type of torture was in store for you.

"Do you want to know what I have planned for you?" Dean tempted you, reading your mind, his eyes green again, studying you through the mirror.

You stayed silent, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Dean didn't seem to care, he continued on. "I was thinking of tying you up on the bed at first, because knowing you, you will try to escape. But I haven't decided, do I leave you dressed, or shall you stay naked for my enjoyment?"

Your body betrayed you then, twitching in dismay at the thought of being tied up and at the mercy of a Demon, but you kept silent.

"Then I might tease you, touch you in all the spots you like, because sweetheart, I might be a Demon, but I still know all your weaknesses. For example how you melt when my lips press against the tender skin right under your ear, or when I nibble on your collar bone."

Dean took his gaze away long enough to check the road, before returning it to the rear view mirror. "And when I have you begging, that's when the fun starts for me. You see I have this fun little knife." He tells you, holding up the first blade. "This knife will sure look good against that fair skin of yours. And what will look even better will be the deep red of your blood running down your body."

You shivered then, the threat becoming too much to take. You were lucky, in a small sense of the word, because Dean was slowing the Impala down, pulling into the parking lot of a seedy two story motel. Pulling into a parking spot, Dean shut the engine off, before opening your door and grabbing your arm. It was only a couple of steps until he was opening a faded wooden door and shoving you inside. 

Tripping over your own feet, you let your eyes adjust to the darkened room, taking in the wood paneling along the wall, the lime green and yellow comforters, and the old velvet couch where Crowley was currently sprawled. 

"Finally." He muttered, swishing the glass of brandy that was in his hand. "I was beginning to wonder if she had gotten the best of you Dean."

"Shut up." Dean growled, before he sprawled on his belly on one of the beds. He must not be too worried about you escaping, because he laid there with his eyes closed, his arms and legs spread completely across the bed. You took the opportunity to use the bathroom, listening to the conversation on the other side of the door.

"Why the hell did you bring her with us?" Crowley seethed.

"Because she amuses me, always has. Seems like a good way to pass some time." Dean answered, his voice muffled on the bed.

"True, but you promised as soon as you sowed some oats we would get down to business. And I'm pretty sure it's been long enough. "Crowley argued. 

"Last I checked you weren't exactly in charge here." Dean said, his voice smooth, deep and annoyed. 

"I'm just worried you're letting little Dean make too many decisions here." Crowley argued, as you flushed the toilet.

"Nah, he just helps with some of my decisions." Dean smarted off. "Anyways, I have a plan in place. I know Sam's coming after me, so if I use her as a distraction, I can get away, easy. I don't really care if she lives or dies, but Dams too much of a softie. He will have to stop an help her."


	16. Rescue

One week. That's how long you've been held by Dean, and you didn't mean in the loving, caring way he did early in your relationship. Ever since that first day he brought you to the motel, you have been tied to the bed, at his mercy. Some days were better than others, for instance today he has spent most of his time at the bar down the street, drinking, and singing karaoke. Or at least that's what Crowley told you when he came back to check on you.

This time you were once again tied to the bed , with enough rope length that you could use the bathroom if needed, your hands tied in front of you, with a rope tied to the headboard. You had searched for anything to cut the rope, but Dean was careful, and kept everything just out of reach. As you laid there, you fought against the withdrawal from the pill Sally had given you. It had been strong, giving you the burst of energy you had needed at the time, but it had slowly worn off, and your body ached, the bites on your neck had stopped healing, and you were ridicoulsy weak. It also didn't help that Dean had decided to use you as his personal play toy, carving decorations into your body, or using it for his own personal release. It was horrible, and there were times you wished you were back at the club, or even dead. Anything would be better than watching the love of your life as a cruel Demon.

"Darling, how are you doing? I brought sustenance." Crowley said, appearing out of nowhere. He held a plate with a sandwich in one hand, and a bottle of water in the other. 

"Crowley, do you remember when you didn't want me near Dean? Why don't you let me go, so you can go back to your plan." You begged, using him as your last resort.

Crowley placed the sandwich on the bed, before sitting on the edge of the other one. "My dear, that was before he was a Demon. But now that he is a knight of hell, I really don't care. You keep him from going after all the bimbos at the bar, and he can satisfy his blood lust on you. I suspect soon he will kill you. This situation is working well for me." He told you before transporting out of the room, probably back to the bar and Dean.

Grabbing the sandwich, you took a bite, grateful that they at least remembered to feed you. As you ate, you heard the tell tale signs of the door being picked. Crouching down beside the bed, you waited, wondering what new horror awaited you beyond the door.

The door opened, and a tall silhouette stood in the door frame, the body taking up most of the light shining through. Cowering beside the bed, hidden from his view, you watched as he swung his gun around, making sure the room was empty, before turning on the light.

"Sam!" You gasped, shaking your head in disbelief that your best friend was standing in front of you. A friend you hadn't seen in over six months, one that you had thought you would never see again. He stood frozen, glancing around the room, trying to figure out where your voice had come from. Your legs shaking, you stood, using the bed for support. After the club, and being held by Dean, you had little strength left, and you spent most of your time laying in bed, asleep. 

Sam finally noticed you, and his eyes widened in shock. "Y/N?" He asked, not believing his eyes. "Is that really you? I thought you were dead! You ran off, I couldn't find you.." He said, moving closer, the gun still up as if he couldn't believe you were real.

"Sam." You said again, your voice sick with emotion, you ran to him, forgetting about your pain, forgetting about the rope, until you reached the end of the tether, and it yanked you back and you fell on the floor, moaning in pain. Sam came running over then, helping you to your feet and guiding you back to the bed.

Once you were safely sitting down, Sam turned the lamp on, illuminating your darkened features. Crouching down in front of you, he looked up and down your body, noticing how much weight you had lost, the dark circles under your eyes, how pale your skin had become, along with the various cuts and bruises that decorated your entire body.

Tears forming in his eyes, he leaned forward, pulling you into his embrace. "Shit Y/N, I'm so sorry. I've tried looking for you, but your trail went cold, and then Dean..." He started to say, but you stopped him.

"Sam don't worry about it. It's my fault, I'm the one who ran away. Can you get me out of here?" You asked, raising your arms to show the ropes that had dug into your skin.

Sam pulled a knife from his pocket, but before he cut the rope off, he winced. "I'm sorry to have to do this, but I need to make sure it's really you. Then I will get you out of here." He promised. He did the usual hunters tests, and you sat there quietly until he was finished.

"You're you." He said, a vibrant smile on his face. He cut the ropes, and you rubbed at where they had turned your skin raw. 

"Now what?" You asked, wanting to get out of there before Crowley or Dean came back. They would not be happy to see you free, and they would especially not be happy to see Sam had finally found them. 

"It's Dean isn't it? He found you, and he's keeping you here?" Sam guessed, frowning at the thought of his brother being the bad person.

Placing your hand on his shoulder, you explained what you knew. "It's not really him. Somehow the Mark turned him into a Demon."

"I know. That's why we need to get you out of here, and to somewhere safe. Then I will come back and..." Sam started to say, but was interrupted by a voice by the door.

"And what Sammy? Come back and try to save me? I told you to leave me alone." Dean growled, blocking the only exit. 


	17. Brotherly Love

Seeing Dean standing in the doorway, blocking your only exist, was like being in the ocean with a shark between you and the beach. It was terrifying, and you cowered in the corner, the brave hunter you had once been turned into a sniveling coward.

"Sammy, I would say it's good to see you, but it's not really." Dean smirked, watching his brother with an evil glint in his eye.

"Dean, let Y/N go, she has nothing to do with this." Sam urged, but you curled in on yourself when you heard Dean's laughter as a reply.

"Y/N? I don't care if she has nothing to do with this. She keeps me entertained." Dean replied, and your heart plummeted. It sounded like he would do everything to keep his play toy on it's leash, and his play toy was you.

You watched as Sam and Dean squared off, neither moving, both staring each other down. Waiting for the either one to make a move, but neither wanting to be the first. It was like a game of cat and mouse, and you couldn't take it any longer.

You stood up on shaky legs, making your way as far as you could before your nerves stopped you. "Dean, please let Sam go. I will stay, on my own free will, if you let him go." You pleaded. You couldn't imagine anything happening to your best friend, and you would do anything to make sure he stayed safe.

Sam glanced at you, his eyes filled with sadness. "Y/N, you don't have to do that for me." 

Dean chuckled. "How sweet, the two of you trying to save each other. If I didn't know any better, I would think you two were a couple. But I know for a fact that Y/N has only spread her legs for me." Dean said crudely.

"Please." You begged. "Let him go, then I will do anything you want." 

He seemed to consider it. "Fine, as long as he promises to not come after me again. If he does, then both of you are dead. Do you understand?"

"No, I..." Sam started to argue, but you shook your head, stopping him. "Fine, I don't like this, but." He said, moving towards the door, and Dean stepped aside to let him pass. Before Sam left, he turned to you, and with Dean unable to see the movement, he winked. Confused, you stayed put, and watched as he walked to the door, pausing by Dean. Dean's body language was stiff, he still didn't trust his brother, but he wasn't going to give up an inch.

"Y/N Run" Sam yelled, before splashing Dean with the bottle of Holy Water he had been hiding. Dean was hissing, his entire face steaming from the burn of the water. At first you were frozen, but then you ran, past Dean and out the door, once again being blinded by the sun. You sprinted across the parking lot, before your weakness over took you, and you stood there gasping for breath. Watching the motel door, you waited for Sam, hoping he would be able to make it out too, not sure if you would be brave enough to go back in for him. Minutes passed, before you spotted Sam, and what you saw shocked you.

Somehow during the time you had escaped and now, Sam had managed to capture Dean, and was now pulling him behind him with Dean's hands cuffed. You watched as Sam threw Dean into the back of the Impala, handcuffing him to the door. It was then Sam looked around, and you figured he was looking for you. 

You stepped out from the shadows, and gingerly made your way towards Sam, the rough pavement and rocks cutting into your feet. Sam noticed you, and came running. Once he reached you, he glanced down, before picking you up gently in his arms. The motion was sweet, but it jarred your already sore body, and you moaned. 

"I know. But it's better than you trying to walk across this parking lot again." He whispered in your ear, and you laid your head on his chest, feeling safe for the first time in months. He came to the Impala, and gently placed you on your feet, before opening the passenger door. You glanced back, where Dean was cuffed behind you, before sliding onto the seat, curling into as little of a ball as possible.

"Honey, you're still not done with me yet." Dean whispered menancingly, and you shuddered, just as Sam climbed into the other side.

"Shut it Dean." Sam said tiredly, before starting the Impala. He glanced around, finally noticing the filth that had ocumulated on the dash and the floor. "What the hell happened to the Impala?" Sam wondered out loud, turning to glance at Dean.

Dean shrugged before looking out the seat. "It's just a car Sam." He said, and you watched as shock covered Sam's face, and you knew he had finally realized how much Dean had changed.

Sam pulled the Impala out of the parking lot, pointing it east, towards the bunker. You wondered if any of your personal belongings were still there, or if they had been thrown out. You couldn't quite believe you were heading back there, it had been so long that your memories of it had felt like a dream.


	18. Home

The ride to the bunker was anything but uneventful. You were exhausted, and you felt yourself continuously nodding off, but then you would jerk awake, realizing part of your nightmares was actually sitting behind you.

Sam stayed silent as he drove his brothers Impala, his eyes trained on the road. Occasionally he would glance at you, and you would give him a reassuring smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

Dean on the other hand was sarcastic and crude, picking opportune moments to say something he knew would upset you or his brother, sometimes getting to the both of you at once.

Sam pulled over for gas, and you were left to keep an eye on Dean. You knew it was a good idea, If the people in the store saw you, they would notice the bruises and cuts and probably go after Sam and you didn't want that.

Instead you sat there quietly, as close to the door as possible, as far away from Dean as you could get while still being in the same car with him.

"Y/N." Dean said teasingly, and you curled in on yourself, not wanting to hear what he had to say. "You know the cure might not work right?"

"It's worth a shot." You argued, cursing yourself for even answering him.

He just laughed, nothing like his old laugh. This one was creepy, and sent shivers down your arms. "I can't decide." He started, and you stayed silent, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of answering him, but it didn't work because he went on. "I can't decide on who I go after first when I get free. And I promise I will get free. I really want to go after Sam, to see the life slowly drain from his stupid puppy dog eyes."

Inwardly you cringed, hating how easy Dean was talking about killing his own brother, how he seemed to enjoy the thought of it.

"But then, there's you. Think of all the fun things I can do to you before I slowly squeeze your neck, taking away the breath that keeps you alive." He told you, his voice deep and dark, bringing back thoughts of what had just happened the previous days. Just the thought of what he had done, and could possibly do again terrified you, and you cowered, your entire body trembling in fear. Dean noticed, of course, and he leaned forward as far as he could, his fingertips brushing against your shoulder. It was too much, and you opened the door, jumping out and rushing to the other side of the Impala, where Sam was just returning to.

"Y/N?" He asked, noticing the tears pouring down your cheeks, and the shivers that controlled your entire body.

"How do we know if this will even work? And what happens when it does? I don't know if I will ever be able to look at Dean the same way again." You muttered, the stress from everything slowly becoming too much to bear.

Sam gently grasped your shoulder, trying to calm you down, but the slightest touch had you jerking back from him. "Y/N, we have to at least try." He said calmly. "We need to take it one step at a time. And that first step is getting all of us back to the bunker, alive. Can we just work on that for now?"

You nodded, and he guided you back to your spot in the passenger seat. "She returns for more." Dean teased, flicking his eyes black, and you quickly looked away.

"Dean shut up." Sam said tiredly, before shutting your door and moving back to his side of the Impala, climbing in and turning it on. He pulled it out onto the road, and you were surprised when Dean actually followed Sam's orders and stayed quiet.

Your exhaustion soon became too much to handle, and you found yourself falling asleep, cuddled against the window.

_____________________________________________________________________________

The next time you awoke, it was in time to see Sam pulling into the garage of the bunker. Turning the key in the ignition, Sam turned to see that you were finally awake. He gave you a tired smile, before glancing back at Dean, who sat there with an evil smirk on his face, seemingly not concerned about the fact that he was currently cuffed and immobile.

"Y/N, do you mind staying here while I make sure everything's ready? I hate to ask you, but at least he's cuffed here." Sam asked, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. He was exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to get his brother locked in the dungeon so he could crash for a couple of hours. But he was also worried about you, about leaving you alone with Dean.

You yawned, but nodded at Sam. "It's fine. You go, I'll just keep watch outside the car." 

He nodded at you, before leaving the Impala and heading towards the hall. He glanced over his shoulder, making sure you were safe and out of the car before he vanished out of sight. Once he was gone, you shut the door, before taking a couple of steps away, leaning against one of the beams of the garage. Dean stayed silent, staring at you with unwavering eyes. You glanced down, looking at your bare feet, covered in tiny cuts. You were pretty sure there wasn't a single part of your skin that didn't have a bruise or cut on it, and you knew you had to look horrible. 

Saving Dean was Sam's first priority, but you needed to get away from Dean as soon as possible. You needed some time, some personal space, to lick your wounds. Nothing sounded better than a hot shower, and then curling up into bed, sleeping for a week. After that, then you could think about what had happened to you, and where you would go from here.

Sam quickly returned, opening the door, and unhooking Dean's cuffs from the handle, before dragging him behind him. As Dean passed you, he flicked his eyes black. "Remember my promise." He told you, before Sam pulled him out of the garage. 

Waiting a moment, you turn down the hallway, your subconscious taking you to your old room, the one you had shared with Dean, what seemed like years ago. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, you looked around, wondering how much had changed.

You were surprised at the sight in front of you. You almost felt as if you were in the wrong room. None of your personal belongings were in sight. Your pictures that had graced the top of the dresser were gone, liquor bottles were in their place. You stepped forward, opening a drawer, disappointed when it was empty. You knew you had been the one to run off, but a part of you had wished that when you had shown up missing, Dean wouldn't have tossed you to the side so quickly.

"I'm sorry your stuff isn't in here. When we couldn't find you, Dean went a little crazy, and I packed all your stuff up, for his sanity, and for mine." Sam said from the doorway.

You gave him a sad smile. "It was a shock." You admitted.

Sam tilted his head." Come on, I didn't throw anything away. I'll show you where I put them. Then we can get you cleaned up, and in bed. We can start with Dean in the morning."


	19. Starting Fresh

Sam took you to a separate room, one that hadn't seen use for quite some time. The furniture were still covered with sheets, a couple of cardboard boxes placed on the full size bed. There was a closet, and a small connecting bathroom, almost an exact copy of the room you had shared with Dean. Just the thought of his name was enough to send shivers down your body, and you were glad when Sam spoke, taking your attention away from your deep, dark thoughts.

"I took the liberty of placing your items in this room. I know it doesn't look like much, but we can slowly fix it up." He explained, pulling the sheet off of the dresser and chair across from the bed. 

"Sam, I don't know how long I can stay." You told him truthfully.

He stopped what he was doing, his eyes sad as he faced you. 

"Don't you dare!" You told him. "Don't you dare pull the puppy dog eyes trick on me."

"Why? I know it will be tough at first, but we're like family. And family sticks together." He explained.

Sighing, you began pulling the boxes off the bed, setting them on the dresser before pulling the protective sheet off the blanket. "I know, but after everything I've gone through, everything Dean did, I'm not sure I will ever be able to face him again." You said quietly, tears pouring down your face. 

You wanted to stay, you really did. The bunker was your home, and Sam was your family. You had nowhere else to go, but knowing Dean was under the same roof as you, had you ready to pack and run. It wasn't fair to you, or Sam and Dean either, but after everything you had been through, it was the only thing that felt right.

Sam sat down on the bed next to you, his shoulders slumped, showing how hard this had all been on him also. "I understand you went through a lot, I really do. And maybe someday you will talk to me about what happened. But we both know that wasn't Dean back there, it was the Demon version of him. Once we save him..." Sam started saying,  but you interrupted him.

"How do we even know the cure will work? He's not just a Demon, he's a special case." You argued. 

Sam stood up, brushing back his long hair from his face. "It's the only thing we've got. I would rather kill my brother by trying, then leave him as a Demon. But for now, clean up, get some rest. Everything will look different in the morning."

You hoped Sam was right, that once you had a good night's sleep under your belt you would feel better, and things would look more positive. Nodding, you watched him walk out the door, turning to glance at you one more time, before slowly shutting it.

"Sam, wait!" You yelled just before the door clicked shut. He opened it a little, so you could just see his face. "You aren't going to try the cure tonight are you? It's so late, why not get some sleep tomorrow, then maybe I could help you." You told him, the last part coming out a little strangled and unsure, but you meant it. Maybe facing your fears would help push them away. You knew your relationship with Dean would never be the same, but you still had to help the man who had a hold of your heart.

"Are you sure Y/N? It won't be pretty, and Dean won't be cooperative. I think you've been through enough." Sam told you, trying to shelter you from as much bad stuff as possible. But after what you had seen, and gone through in the last 6 months, you were sure curing Dean wouldn't be the worst thing.

Nodding your head, you assured Sam. "I'm sure. No matter what he did to me as a Demon, my Dean is still hiding in there, and I want to help bring him out."

"Then there is hope for you two yet." Sam said softly before the door clicked behind him. 

Walking over to the boxes, you opened the first one, grateful when it was full of clothes, the second containing your bathroom essentials. The bathroom was dusty, but you didn't let that bother you, promising yourself that tomorrow you would clean it, make it more usable. Tonight, or almost this morning since it was so late, all you were worried about was getting some of the grime off of you.

The shower worked just fine, and soon you were standing under a steady stream of hot water, hissing as your cuts and bruises burned as they were cleansed. It felt amazing to be able to stand in the shower, knowing you were safe, that you could take your time and no one would be pounding on that door yelling at you.

Finally you drug yourself out of the shower, feeling much more better and almost normal again. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants and an old faded tshirt, you almost felt like yourself again, except for the fact that you were starving. 

Opening your door, you glanced down the darkened hallway, hoping to see Sam. When no sounds reached your ears, and nothing moved, you realized you would have to make the long trek to the kitchen by yourself. Shivering, you grabbed a flannel shirt that had probably belonged to Dean at one point, shrugging it on before slipping down the hallway.

As you walked closer to the kitchen, you were curious as to why Sam had put your stuff so far away from the rest of the bunker. Your new room was one of the last ones, and you had to pass a multitude of other rooms, including the storage room to reach the rest of the bunker.

 

Your bare feet were quiet on the tile floor, and you could hear the betting of your heart, picking up as you came closer to the storage door. It might look like storage from the outside, but behind those bookcase was the bunkers personal dungeon, and you knew that's where Sam had placed Dean. 

Planning on walking right past it without stopping, you were shocked when your feet froze in front of the door, and no matter what you couldn't get moving again. It was then you heard the laughing, an evil, deep chuckle that you knew had to be Dean's. 

"Come on Y/N. I know you're standing outside my door. Why don't you come on in, we can have a nice little chat." His voice sounded from the other side of the door.


	20. Conversations

You were frozen to the spot, the sound of Deans voice making your heart skip a beat. Gulping, you willed yourself to move, towards the kitchen, away from the temptation to face Dean again. You knew the time would come sooner or later, and with him tied up and not going anywhere right now, it might be the best time.

"Y/N, you know I can't hurt you right now, I'm tied up at the moment. Come see me, let's talk." He said again, and before you knew what you were doing, you found yourself opening the door. 

"That's right baby, a little closer." His deep, voice said from behind the storage racks in front of you. You moved forward, opening them, ignoring the feeling in the pit of your stomach that this wasn't a good idea. Earlier in your bedroom you were ready to run before you saw Dean again, and now here you were, seconds away from standing in front of him.

Shaking your head at your own stupidity, you kept on moving, opening the hidden door, until you could walk past it. You stepped into the considerably cooler room, and the first thing you saw was Dean. He was placed exactly in the middle of the room, tied to a chair, a devils trap around him. He was sitting there with his head cooked to the side, a smirk on his face.

Knowing he couldn't break through the Devils trap gave you more courage, and you walked up to the edge of it, stopping when your big toe was only an inch away.

"I'm surprised." Dean said. "I wasn't sure you would come in here. I must not have broken you enough then."

Between dealing with Dean and that club, you were broken, not even close to the woman you used to be a year ago. You were always afraid, always checking over your shoulder, terrified that Dean, or one of your old customers would be behind you, ready to torment you once again. It was horrible living this way, and you weren't sure you would ever be able to hunt again. 

"You tried, you and the club to break me, and it worked. I'm not the same woman you first met, even the same woman from a year ago. I'm terrified, of everything and I'm not sure I will ever get past that. But I still have enough spark left in me to fight and to come see for myself that you are really in here, unable to get free." You said, your tone not conveying the tremors you were hiding on the inside.

"I can see now that I needed to do a better job." Dean told you. "But don't you worry, we will have plenty of time. Because I will get out of here, and when I do, you will be who I come after. At first I thought I should go after Sam first, after all he is the one who captured me. But then, I decided you would be more fun, after all, I had a blast with you in that hotel room. Do you remember?" He asked, teasing you. He knew you remembered, how could you forget? He just wanted to make sure it was at the front of your mind, playing over and over, the horrific memories still so real you could feel the pain.

"I don't think you will be going anywhere, at least not as a Demon. Sam will cure you." You replied, hoping it was true, that he could save his brother and not end up killing him in the end.

"And if I'm cured, what then? It will still be this face, these hands that put you through so much torment, that carved designs into your skin, that used you for his own pleasure. Even if the real me comes back, you both are still going to have these memories. What then?" He tormented you.

Tears were threatening to spill from your eyes, as what he said hit too close to home. Even if he was saved, you weren't sure what would happen next. As you stared at Den through blurred vision, a hand clasped on your shoulder, scaring you. Blankly you panicked, trying to get away from the newest threat, unaware of where you moved, just knowing you needed to get away. 

"Y/N, stop!" Sam's voice sounded through your panicked haze, at the same time you felt something hit the back of your legs and you fell down, your descent stopped suddenly. Your heart beating out of your chest, you glanced behind you, your worst fears confirmed. During your panicked rush, you had run straight into the Devils trap, and landed right into Dean's lap. He was laughing hysterically, finding your terror extremely funny.

"Y/N, get up now." Sam said urgently from the edge of the trap. 

"Now Y/N, why would you get up? The fun is just starting." Dean whispered into your ear, his head tilting down until his breath brushed your neck and you felt goosebumps start to raise.

You wanted to move, to follow Sam's orders, but you couldn't get your limbs moving, you were too scared.

"Y/N, I didn't mean to scare you, please come on. He's strapped to the chair, he can't hurt you. Just stand up. Please." Sam said, holding his hand out.

"Well if I can't hurt her, why aren't you moving into the trap Sammy?" Dean asked.

"Because she needs to do this herself." Sam told him, his sober hazel eyes never leaving yours.

You had calmed down a little bit, enough that you felt like you could move. Placing one foot in front of you, you placed your hand on the armrest, getting ready to push off and run. Before you could move, a hand clasped around your wrist, and you shrieked. Looking down, you saw Dean had just enough leeway to turn his hand in the restraint and grab your wrist tightly.

"Dean let her go!" Sam yelled.

Dean just laughed. "You told her I couldn't hurt her. I just wanted to show her how wrong you were." Dean said before biting down on your neck, earning a painful scream from you.


	21. Silence

Your first instinct was to pull away, to run, but you knew that would hurt worse than what was going on right now. That it might cause more damage in the long run. So you stayed still, cringing as Dean's teeth were sharp on your neck, tearing your skin, your scream turning to whimpers as you felt the blood running down your neck.

"Dean!" You heard Sam yell again, sounding much closer this time, but your eyes were squeezed shut so you couldn't see him. What you did feel, was liquid being splashed over you and Dean, before Dean growled and pulled away from you. As soon as his teeth were out of your skin, a hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you out of Dean's lap. Your legs crumpled underneath you, and a pair of strong arms picked you up, carrying you out of the room. Cuddling into the Sam's strong, warm chest, you let the tears fall, slowly soaking his light plaid shirt.

"Shh." He whispered in your ear as he carried you down the hall, far away from the dungeon. You stayed silent, still in shock over what had just happened, and the pain radiating from your neck. Sam finally made it to your room, pushing the door open with his foot, before gently depositing you on your bed. He left you for just a moment, coming back with a first aid kit.

Sitting on the bed, you stayed silent, letting Sam get to work. He wiped off the excess blood, before pouring alcohol on a cotton pad. "This is going to hurt." He warned, before placing it on your neck. Sucking in a breath, you didn't make a sound, the tears falling the only notification that you were hurting.

"Why were you in there?" Sam asked, as he took the pad away, and placed some fresh gauze over the wound before taping it in place. You didn't answer him, still in your own mind.

"I know that you're upset, and you have every right to be. Please don't go back in there, or anywhere near him. I will work on curing him, and I can't do that while I'm worrying about you too. Please?" He begged, his hazel eyes red with exhaustion.

You nodded, still not wanting to talk, before laying down, and turning on your side, effectively cutting off any more conversation with Sam. He stayed for a moment, before moved to the door. "I know you're hurting, and that you have gone through more than anyone should ever have to, but don't shut me out. We are in this together. It will all work out. You will see." He said before closing the door.

You felt bad for turning your back on Sam, for not answering him, but you were too exhausted, too hurt to do anything more than curl in on yourself. After everything you had been through, this had been the last straw. You weren't sure you would be able to handle anything else, and all you wanted to do was fall into oblivion, and ignore all the bad things surrounding you.

Throwing the blanket over you, you curled into a tiny ball, your tears soaking the pillow, but you didn't notice. You were too far drawn into your own mind, and it was quite some time before your body and mind relaxed enough that you could slowly fall asleep.

The next time you awoke, it was to the sound of your door slowly opening, creaking in protest. Not knowing exactly what to expect, you slid to the far side of the bed, trapped against the wall, your entire body shivering.

All of a sudden you were bathed in light, as Sam turned the light on. Noticing you cowering in the corner, he placed the tray he was carrying on your nightstand, a guilty look on his face. "Shit Y/N, I didn't even think. Sorry if I woke you, I just thought you might be hungry."

Slowly calming down, you slid across the bed, your stomach growling at the thought of the sandwich in front of you. Sam handed you the plate, before stepping back, giving you room. As you ate, he stood there awkwardly, the silence deafening.

"So, I um, started the cure today." He started, and you glanced up at him, your sandwich forgotten. "I've only done two syringes so far, but I'm not sure it's working. They seem to hurt him, and I don't know." He said, running his hand through his hair in his frustration. You stayed silent, still not wanting to talk.

He smiled sadly at you, noticing your lack of words. "I hope it's not killing him." He said quietly, before grabbing the empty tray and turning to leave. "I'm going back in. Stay here, I will give you updates later." 

You nodded, even though you hadn't planned on going anywhere. Your plan was to sleep as much as possible, using sleep as an escape. You weren't exactly ready to face reality again.

After Sam had gone, you finished your sandwich, before laying back down on the bed, too tired to even turn the light off. This time sleep came easily.

_______________________________________________

You weren't sure what woke you this time. Your light was still on, your door still shut. But something seemed off, and you couldn't quite place your finger on it. Carefully climbing out of bed, you went to move to the door, planning on going against Sam's wishes because something did not seem right. However, as soon as you reached for the handle, it slammed open, and a heaving Sam raced into your room, before shutting it behind him.

"Y/N.!" He gasped, trying to catch his breath. "He's free."

You automatically knew what he meant, that somehow Dean had freed himself from the dungeon. Your heart in your throat, you stared at Sam with big eyes, scared to death.

"I'm going to try to draw him out, try to trap him somehow. I want you to stay here, with the light off, not making any sounds. He has no idea you're in this room. Can you do that?" Sam asked, already moving back to the door, missing your nod.

"I know you're not talking right now, and I understand why. But if he comes after you, I need you to scream. It's the only way I will know. Please?" He begged, and you nodded again. He breathed deeply, before opening the door and glancing around. "No matter what you hear, stay here."

He shut the door behind him, and you locked it, before shutting the lights off. Not knowing what to do, you moved to the corner of your room, before sliding down the wall and tucking your chin in to your knees, waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has read, commented or given kudos on this story. It means so much to me, thank you so much!!!


	22. Waiting

Waiting is probably the hardest thing to do, when you have no idea what was happening beyond that door, if Sam was okay, or if Dean was on his way to you right that second. You curled in as tight as you could, your arms tight around your legs, your chin tucked into your knees, your entire body tense and trembling from fear. It was as if someone had heard you muttering that being attacked was the last straw, and decided it would be fun to push you even more, until you completely cracked.

You weren't sure what would happen if Dean came through that door, if you would be able to fight him, or your fear and exhaustion would have you passing out in front of him, leaving you to his mercy. You kept your fingers crossed that Sam would be able to trick his brother, and capture him without too much of a struggle.

"Sammy!" You heard outside of your door, and you hugged the wall as tight as you could, Dean's loud voice sending shivers down your spine. Holding your hand to your mouth, you pressed hard enough that you could feel your teeth digging into the skin, as you tried to keep as quiet as possible. Footsteps pounded the tile outside your door, before stopping, and you held your breath, waiting to see what would happen.

"Come on Sammy, don't you want to spend some time with your brother?" Dean yelled, his voice sinister and teasing, and you felt bad for Sam, trying to keep the both of you safe while at the same time trying to cure his brother. It was an almost impossible task, and you were afraid someone would die before Dean was cured, if that ever happened.

The footsteps started up again, heading away from your room, and you let out a breath, relieved that you were saved for the moment. Then you cursed yourself, ashamed that you were so broken that you weren't even able to help your best friend, and he might die because of that. 

You were so busy berating yourself that at first you didn't even notice that the power went out, but when the alarm sounded, you jumped. Sam must have locked down the bunker, making sure Dean wouldn't escape, but that meant you and Sam were officially locked in here with a man who wanted nothing more than to see the life slowly leave your eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you willed yourself to move, to uncurl yourself, and act like the brave hunter you used to be, instead of the shell you currently were. As you finally talked yourself into opening the door, footsteps pounded down the hallway, and you hid back in your spot, any sort of confidence gone.

"Y/N!" Dean yelled, his voice echoing right in front of your door, and you couldn't help but whimper. "I know you're here somewhere, but Sam wouldn't tell me where. Come on out, I just want to have some fun with you. I promise I won't bite this time, unless you ask me too!"

You looked around your room frantically, trying to find a better place to hide, because the only way you could escape was out the door that Dean was currently blocking. But you were stuck, the closet was too full of old boxes, your bed too small to hide under, your bathroom too open. So you stayed stuck against the wall, as tight and as small as you could make yourself, hoping that he would miss you in the dark.

Dean started pounding on your door, and you bit your lip trying to stay quiet, biting it hard enough that you drew blood. "Y/N, I know you're in there, I can smell your fear. Things will go a lot easier for you if you just open this door." He threatened, but even if you wanted to, you couldn't move, your entire body locked up, frozen from fear.

The pounding stopped, and you hoped that he had given up, that he was bored with you, and was trying to find something else to keep him occupied. "Fine, if you won't come out, I guess I will come in." He told you, and before you knew what was happening, a thud hit the door, followed by another, then another. Soon wood chips were flying in your room, the end of a hammer sticking through the thick wooden door.

"You better be ready." Dean threatened, before sending another blow against the door. You knew you only had moments before he would break completely through, but you weren't sure what you could do. Coming up with a plan, you stood up and raced to the dresser, grabbing your boxes and unloading the contents onto your bed, looking for anything that might help you protect yourself against an angry and powerful Demon Dean.

The first box was useless, full of clothes, towels and books. The second box wasn't much better, and you felt yourself hiccuping, tears pouring down your cheeks, your fear consuming you. The thudding hadn't stopped, Dean was still hammering away at the door, and quite a few chunks were already missing. You happened to glance over as you grabbed the third and final box, and you could see Dean's head through the opening, his eyes flashing black as he sent a sinister smirk your way.

"There you are Y/N, why have you been hiding from me?" He teased, before holding the hammer up. "Give me just a second, and I will join you." He promised, before bringing the hammer back down against the door, wood flying towards you, a piece scraping against your cheek, drawing blood. You were so terrified you didn't even register the pain, as you upended the third and final box, breathing a sigh of relief as some of your forgotten hunting items fell into a pile on your bed. Throwing the silver out of your way, you grasped the next thing you saw to your chest, as Dean stepped through the large hole he had made in your door.

"Here's Johnny." He said before chuckling at himself, holding his arms out wide. Taking the only opportunity you might have, you unscrewed the cap and tossed the entire contents of the flask in his face, watching as the holy water burned him, steam rising from his face.

As Dean growled in pain, you raced past him, out through the broken door, down the hallway, not sure where you were heading, as long as it was away from Dean. 

Rounding the corner, you ran into a solid mass, and in your terrified state, you started hitting it, afraid that Dean had somehow gotten out of your room, and gotten ahead of you.

"Woah, Y/N, calm down!" Sam's voice carried over you, and you went limp, relief flooding your body as you realized he was safe, and you were too, for now.


	23. Grace

"Where is he?" Sam asked you, gripping your arms tightly, his urgency for finding his brother making his grip harder than normal.

You pointed down the hallway. "My room. He shattered my door." You said between your teeth chattering. Sam nodded, looking between you and the hallway, his eyes indecisive. You knew he wanted to leave you standing there, and try to trap his brother, but his heroic side of him wanted him to stay and keep you out of harms way.

"Go." You said quietly, trying to pull away, but he wouldn't let you go. Instead he looked down at you, chewing on the bottom of his lip as he thought.

"Come with me." He told you, shocking you. "This way I know where you are, and that you're safe."

You nodded, not wanting to be alone, but at the same time not wanting to head into the battle that you knew would happen. Sam didn't give you much choice, he pulled you behind him, his hand holding the Demon killing knife out in front of him as he slowly and quietly walked down the hallway. You mutely followed along, your body shivering in fear, so hard that you feared someone could hear your bones rattling.

"Cas is coming, we just need to hold off until we have his help." Sam whispered, trying to calm you down, and it worked a little bit. But you knew that Cas was missing his grace, so he would be powerless against Dean.

Sam stopped at a corner, his back against the wall, and you followed suit. He slowly leaned around the corner, checking to see if it was empty. It was, and he gestured for you to follow him. The two of you stayed that way, checking each new hallway for Dean, as you headed straight for your room. The silence was deafening, Dean shouldn't be this quiet. Something was wrong.

Sam had you stand close against the wall, as he peeked through the ruined door, his shoulders slumping in defeat when he noticed the room was empty. As he turned to face you, you watched his face go from confused to concerned, and what you thought was scared, an emotion you didn't often see on Sam's face.

Before you could ask him what was wrong, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you tight against a warm, unyielding body. A knife was pressed against your throat, and for a moment all you could think about was the fact that Dean had switched his hammer out for one of the knives in your room. 

"Dean, let her go." Sam said, his voice extremely calm for the situation. "She has nothing to do with this. Let her go and deal with me."

Dean's grip tightened on you, and you knew he wasn't going to let you go. You stood as still as a statue, afraid that the slightest move on your part would have that knife sliding into your skin.

"But I don't want to let her go. I've changed my plan. I think I will kill her first, in front of you, then after your nice and emotionally worked up, I will come after you. Because there is just enough Demon left in me, that makes killing my own brother and girlfriend easy."

You let out a whimper, as Dean slid the knife away from your neck, down your collarbone, before twisting it and pressing the tip against your chest, right above your heart.

"What do you think Sam? Should I kill her nice and quick, plunging the blade into her plump chest? Or should I take me time, drawing all over her body, leaving enough gashes that she will slowly bleed out." He said, his voice low and deep as the knife followed his words, slicing the skin above your shirt. You held in the tears, afraid any sort of movement or sound would bring the knife farther into your skin.

"Damn it Dean, don't do it. She's already been through enough. If you're going to torture anyone, torture me!" He yelled.

You felt, rather than heard Dean's deep chuckle from behind you. "Sammy don't you see? I'm torturing both of you at the same time. It's perfect really." He said, the knife still digging into your skin.

You heard Sam groan, no doubt in frustration that he was helpless, that he could only stand there and watch as Dean made you bleed. "We will cure you, and when your free, you are going to regret this so much. Please stop before you make it worse." Sam begged.

You felt Dean stiffen, before you heard a new voice in the mixture behind you. "Dean, let her go, drop the knife. I've got you."

Dean growled, an inhuman growl that scared you almost more than the knife still pressed against you, however this time lower, closer to your stomach.

"Alright Cas, I will let her go." Dean promised, his voice strangely happy. Before you could contemplate too much, you felt the steel of the knife slide in, past your shirt, through your skin, burning deep inside you.

Dimly you heard Sam yell at Dean, but you were too immersed in the burning pain in your abdomen. You felt Dean's arm release you, and with nothing holding you up, you felt yourself fall the ground, your knees jarring as they hit the hard tiled floor.

"Y/N!" Sam yelled, as you glanced down where the knife was still protruding, your shirt turning dark around it. Pressing your hand next to the knife, you stared in shock as your white hand came back red.

"Cas, get him to the dungeon, quick!" Sam ordered, before dropping to his knees beside you. You tilted your head to look at him. "God Y/N, I'm so sorry" he kept whispering, while he pulled the knife out of your skin, and you moaned.

He took off his over shirt, and placed it against your wound. Picking you up, he carried you down the hall, past your broken doorway, kicking open another door, and in your pain induced haze, you noticed you were now in Sam's room. He placed you on the bed, before rushing around his room, gathering up his first aid kit.

As he sat next to you, you placed a hand on his arm. "Dean." You said weakly. 

"He can't hurt you again. Cas has his grace back, he has him controlled." Sam said, his words dripping with guilt. You could tell he blamed himself for what happened to you. 

You sat back, letting Sam rip your shirt open, only tensing when he started cleaning the wound. However, the loss of blood, and lack of sleep slowly became too much to handle, and no matter how hard you fought it, you couldn't stop yourself from drifting off.


	24. Shame

It was dark when you woke up, the main light in the room turned off. It was eerie, especially after everything that had just happened throughout the bunker. Your body felt stiff, your stomach sore, and you realized why. You remembered hiding in your room, when Dean came after you. You remembered throwing holy water on him, and running for Sam, who kept you with him. But then you remembered the worst part, Dean sneaking up behind you, cutting into your body as he teased Sam, before plunging the knife into your belly.

Pulling back the covers, you gasped at your naked torso, covered in cuts and bruises. You were tired of seeing your body like this. It seems like for the last half year you were always bloody or bruised, and you were done with being a victim, always being sore.

There was a note next to you on the nightstand, along with a glass of water and some pain relieving pills. You reached for the light, moaning as the movement irritated your side. Switching the light on, you grabbed the pills, downing them with a long drink of water. After the glass was empty, you turned your attention to the note, written on an old motels notepad, one of many that you and the boys had taken during your trips. 

Cas will be checking up on you periodically.   
When you wake up, please don't come looking for us  
I will let you know what happens. 

 

The note was short and to the point, not that you expected anything different. Sam was busy trying to take care of you, and cure his brother, all at the same time, which was a lot to take on for one person. You felt guilty that Sam had to take time out to take care of you. 

It was then the door quietly opened, and a dark haired angel stuck his head inside. You smiled, happy to see him, you had always liked the awkward angel.

"How are you feeling?" He asked you, coming inside the room and shutting the door. 

"Like I was stabbed by a knife." You said truthfully, because right now your entire body ached, and the wound in your stomach was hot and painful.

Well, you did." He told you. "Sam told me to come check on you. I can also heal you now if you would like." He said, coming forward to do just that.

You reached up and grabbed his wrist, stopping him from healing you. "Don't." 

He seemed confused, his vibrant blue eyes squinting in confusion. "But I have my grace back. Well, technically not my grace, but I do have enough power to heal you. You don't have to worry about me." 

You shook your head, still not wanting him to heal you. "You need to save it, to use it to deal with Dean. He may get loose again, or he may need healing after he's cured. Please, save it for him." You whispered. 

Truthfully, you didn't feel like you needed to be healed. The pain was a reminder that you had screwed up, that it was probably all your fault that these things had happened to you. If you hadn't been so emotional, or so reckless and ran away, you wouldn't have had all these bad things happen to you. You never could blame Dean for any of it.

"Please Y/N, I know it has to hurt." He asked again, but you adamantly refused. Sighing, he sat down on the chair across from the bed, his arms on his knees.

"How is he Cas?" You asked, your words quiet but still conveying your concern.

"I don't know. We are almost done, but both Sam and I wonder if it's killing him." Cas answered truthfully as he stood up. "And I should be getting back. It's very taxing on Sam, and I want to be there when and if he needs help."

You nodded, before thanking him for checking on you. "And Cas, I'm fine. Please don't you and Sam worry about me at all. Keep your focus on him please."

Cas nodded, his hand on the door. "Thank you Y/N."

As soon as he left, a plan formed in your head. You knew it was stupid, and ridiculous, but once it found its way inside, you couldn't let it go. You slowly pulled the covers back, breathing a sigh of relief upon seeing the bandage still white. You were still in your sleep bottoms, what was left of your shirt lying in the trash. However Sam had a t-shirt laying on top of his dresser, and as soon as your legs would hold you, you reach for it, wincing slightly when you pulled it over your head.

Your legs a little wobbly from blood loss and exhaustion, you slowly made your way to the door, opening it and glancing down the hallway. Looking both ways, it was completely silent, and you moved down the hallway, towards your room, grateful the dungeon was on the other end of it.

Reaching your room, you shuddered as you looked at the broken remains of your door, splinters of wood splattered inside and outside your room. Stepping through the wide hole, you began your task, grabbing a pair of jeans, wiggling them on, groaning when it shook your wound.

You started going through all the contents that had been thrown on your bed, quickly finding your duffel bag from the last hunt you had been on. It was still full of clothing and toiletries. Throwing some weapons and other useful items in it, you turned to the rest of your belongings, looking for a certain item. Finding it, you grabbed the book, opening it up to show your secret stash of credit cards, cash and fake ids. Not even Sam or Dean knew about this hiding spot, or these aliases. 

Grabbing a pen and paper, you quickly scratched a note, leaving It on top of your bed.

I'm sorry to leave you like this,  
But I really think it's for the best.  
Sam, thank you for everything you have done for me,  
I will always appreciate and love you.  
Dean, I hope the cure worked, and if it did,   
Please don't blame yourself, I don't.   
I love you, and I always will, but it was time  
For me to move on.  
With all of my love and heart,   
Y/N.

Throwing a coat on, moaning as the movement pulled against your stitches, you grabbed the duffle bag, and made your way into the hallway once again, turning away from the main part, and heading towards the garage.

There, parked in the corner, was your baby. Opening the door, you winced at the fine layering of dust covering your cherry red mustang. You felt bad, even before you had been kidnapped, you had neglected your car preferring to ride with Dean, and you prayed she would start.

Finding the keys in the console where you had left them, you turned it in the igniton, praying in your head that she would turn over. It took two tries, but soon she was running, just as smoothly as the last time you had driven her.

With tears in your eyes, you pointed her past the Impala, pulling out of the opening, and onto the country road, away from the city. You had no destination in mind, you just knew you needed to get away. You wiped away the tears, knowing you were doing everyone a favor, you were a liability to everyone.


	25. RedBird Inn

As the bunker faded away into the distance, a nagging thought stayed with you, saying that you were making the wrong move, that you needed to stay back and help Sam, and then Dean, when the cure worked. Fighting that nagging thought was the reminders of everything you had been through. Hadn't you been through enough? Who's to say if you stayed, that something else wouldn't happen.

You knew this was the cowards way out, but you couldn't imagine seeing the guilt on Dean's face once he was back to his normal self. It was that, on top of everything else, that had you pushing your mustang past the speed limit, trees whipping by as you tried to leave your pain, your memories, your heart, behind you.

You wiped away the tears as they continued to fall, dangerously blurring your vision as you drove, the light slowly fading into dusk. You knew the best thing to do would be to find the closest motel, and crash for the night. Things would have to look better in the morning. 

Ignoring your instinct, you kept on, willing yourself to stop the tears, as you white knuckled the car through the deserted streets. Your knuckles growing tighter as you imagined what torture Dean had to be going through, and if he was anywhere close to being cured by now.

Hours passed, and it was only when the empty light for your gas came on, that you decided to pull over for the night. Finding a gas station, you quickly fueled up, before making your way inside, grabbing some munchies to keep you full during your motel stay, including a bottle of whiskey.

The gas station attendant was an older woman who had seen better days. Her face was full of lines, either from too much sun, fun, or cigarettes, you weren't sure. Her hair was frizzy, a bottle blonde for sure, and her teeth with stained a deep yellow. However, her eyes held a hint of kindness and compassion, something you hadn't been expecting to see.

"We sure don't get a lot of visitors in this little town." She told you as you set down your items, her voice high pitched. "You sure look pretty roughed up."

You knew what she said was true, your hair was probably ratted to your head, while your bruises and cuts hadn't quite faded away yet, along with the new ones Dean had just given you. Then, your eyes were probably red from all the crying you did on the drive here.

"Yeah, it's been a rough couple of months." You replied, pulling a twenty from what little cash you carried. 

"Well, I sure hope that if it was a man that did that to you, you left that bastard." She told you, staring at your battered face.

You nodded, your voice clogging from emotion, before grabbing your items and high tailing it out to your car. Throwing them in your bag, you turned down main street, trying to find a reasonable motel to stay for the night. At the end of the dimly lit street, you saw a flashing neon sign, reading the Redbird Inn. At least that's what you thought it read, with a couple of letters missing it was hard to tell. 

You pulled into the graveled parking lot, eyeing the few cars that were parked in front of doors, each one a rust bucket. The paint was peeling, and the windows looked like they had never seen a cleaner. Grabbing your bag, you headed through the lobby's graying door, surprised to see a teenage boy running the desk.

"Excuse me. I need a room for the night." You told him, hoping he would go get whoever was in charge so you could get a room, and become drunk enough that you fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

However, the boy stayed, pressing some buttons on the ancient keyboard. "A single or two queens?" He asked you.

"You work here? And a single." You asked.

"Yeah, I help my mom out while she's in school." He said, taking your credit card and running it through the machine before handing it back to you, along with a key.

Signing the reciept you handed it back to him. "Must be hard."

He shrugged, before leaning against the counter. A lock of his shaggy sandy blonde hair slipping over his eye, and for a moment he reminded you a lot of Sam, with his long hair, hazel eyes, and lanky build. "Nah, it keeps me busy, and Mom gives me a little bit of her paycheck. And I can keep Ben over there busy and with me." He said, pointing to a younger child who sat coloring at one of the tables nearby.

You nodded, thanking him, before leaving and heading to your motel room. He had given you one farthest away from the lobby, the very last room on the bottom floor. Opening the door, you took in the faded tan carpet, the wood paneled walls, the orange and brown plaid comforter, and the small tv and fridge that sat at the end of the counter. It wasn't much, but you didn't need much. Right now, more than anything, you needed a place to stay, and to figure out your next move.

Grabbing the bottle of whiskey, you took a long sip, before turning to your cell phone. At first you had been reluctant to bring it with you, you really didn't want anything tying you back to the boys. But you didn't want to travel without some form of communication, so you kept it, figuring you could ditch it once you got a new one.

Changing into a pair of sweatpants, and an old t-shirt, you grimaced at the blood seeping through your bandage. Promising to yourself that you would check the wound and change the bandage later, you turned your phone on, the same time you turned the tv on to take away some of the silence.

As you expected, you had multiple missed calls from Sam, along with a few texts. Ignoring the voice mails he had left, you opened up his latest text, noticing it was only an hour old.

Y/N, I understand why you ran, I really do. But we need you here, and you need to be here. Your stitches need checked,and Dean, well. Just call me, Please.

You contemplated calling him, you really did. But you knew as soon as you called him, he would beg you to come back, and you weren't sure you were strong enough to fight it. Instead, you typed out a quick message, telling him you were okay, and to stop worrying, before you moved onto the bathroom, where you gingerly stripped your shirt and bandage off.

The wound was red and angry looking, blood seeping through the stitches, but at least no stitches had busted. Wiping it off, you poured a generous amount of whiskey over it, about fainting from the burn, before placing another bandage on it.

Stumbling out into the room, you collapsed on the bed, exhausted from the tide of emotions running through you, and from being in so much pain. Throwing the covers over you, you laid on your back, trying not to twinge your injury, the same time as you tried to keep the tears at bay.


	26. Tracing

The next day you woke up feeling hungover and horrible. You glanced at the whiskey bottle next to you, surprised to see it halfway empty. Picking up the phone laying next to it, you saw that Sam hadn't tried to call you, instead he had sent you multiple texts ranging from how are you, to when are you coming back, to we need you, to please just keep us informed. That was the last one, and you knew that Sam must have realized how much you needed space. It hurt, and you were surprised that it hurt, that Sam had given up so easily. In a way you wished he was still calling, and texting you. But that was selfish, he was in the middle of helping his brother.

What got you though, was that in all of those texts, he never said a word about his brother, and it bothered you. Yes, you might have run off, but you still loved Dean, deeply, and you wanted to know if the process was still going on, or maybe he was cured by now. But if he was, why wasn't he trying to contact you?

These questions plagued you, until you raised the bottle to your lips, trying to drown them and the sorrow away. It didn't work, but the burn of the liquid was comforting, and you kept raising it until there was nothing left. Frustrated, you threw it against the wall, the sound of it shattering, sounding like music to your ears.

It was then you tried curling in on yourself, ready to sleep off your new buzz and the feelings that were making there way back into your head. As you moved, your stomach twinged, and you almost cried at the pain and heat radiating from your wound. Rolling onto your back, you pulled the covers off, lifting your shirt, wincing when you saw what was once a white bandage now red.

Gently pulling it away from your skin, you gazed up red, angry skin. It was inflamed, probably infected. You groaned, wondering what else could go wrong. You thought back to what little medical training you had, knowing that an infection was not something to mess with. As you sat there wondering what to do, your phone vibrated, another text from Sam.

Y/N, I'm worried about you. How are your stitches? We need you.

You considered answering him, but decided against it. Instead, you laid on the bed, groaning a little, as the pain coursed through you, worse than before. You knew this wasn't good, but you weren't sure what to do about it.

Deciding on more sleep, you pulled the blankets up, closing your eyes, just as you heard a familiar rustle. "Cas?" You asked, opening your eyes back up to notice the angel standing at the edge of your bed, staring down at you. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"You haven't been properly warded against angels yet, so I could track you. Sam was worried when you didn't text him back, so he asked me to come check on you." Cas replied, still looking at you curiously.

"Well, I'm fine so go back and tell him to leave me alone." You told him.

He shook his head, not buying your act. "I don't think you're fine Y/N. How is your wound?"

You pulled the covers up over you, trying to hide your wound. You knew you were being stupid, that you needed help, but you were too stubborn to admit it. "It's fine Cas. Now can you please go?"

He shook his head, before extending his hand, trying to place his fingers on your forehead. "Woah, buddy, what do you think you''re doing?" You asked, flinching away from him, cringing as the movement upset your sore belly.

"Healing you." He said simply.

"No!" You almost yelled the words, surprising him so much he jumped backwards a little.

Once he recovered from his shock, he narrowed his eyes at you. "Why? I know you are in discomfort. Let me help you."

You shook your head. "No, I don't want anyone's help. Now please, can you go?"

He stared at you for a moment, and you squirmed under his gaze. "Fine, but I don't like it. Please keep in contact with Sam. Or I will be back." He threatened, before turning to leave.

"Cas? How is he?" You asked, your voice quiet.

"He's back." Cas said, and then he was gone.

You sat there in shock after Cas was gone. You had known it would happen, you believed in Sam, and he believed in the cure, but knowing it had really worked, that Dean was no longer a Demon, was almost too good to believe. For just a second you wanted to gather your items and head back to the bunker, back into the arms of the man who held your heart.

But then you remembered he probably still had the mark, and that still didn't bode well for you. Torn between what to do, you tried to stand up, deciding on another liquor run, since your only bottle was currently shattered in a million pieces. 

As you placed your feet on the rough carpet, you winced as your stomach fought the move. Ignoring the pain, you stood up, gently making your way to the bathroom, feeling as if you could throw up any moment. The pain was overwhelming, and you were starting to shiver, the movement jarring your already sore stomach. You leaned against the counter, pouring yourself a glass of water, and finding a couple of aspirin to help combat your fever.

The water was refreshing, and feeling a little better, you moved back into your room, deciding that going on a liquor run was out of the question. You were almost to your bed when you felt light headed, and you could only watch as the floor moved up to meet your face.


	27. Fear

You woke up quickly, too quickly for your head, feeling as it was going to split open from the fast movement. Your tongue was like sandpaper, your throat full of cotton. Before attempting to pry your eyes open, you tried to remember what happened, the fog in your head making it hard. You knew you were no longer in the bunker, that you had run away. You remembered drinking heavily, your wound hurting, and Cas coming to visit you. As these memories turned up in your head, new ones did also. You remember trying to take care of yourself, but the pain and fever being too much and you fell to the floor. You vaguely remember a pair of strong arms picking you up, and placing you back in bed, but that must have been your imagination, because you had turned everyone away.

"Y/N, I know you're awake. Sweetheart, open your eyes. I need to know how you're feeling." That voice was familiar, you had thought you would never hear it again. Opening your eyes, your vision confirmed your suspicion. Dean was sitting in a chair that he had pulled close to your bed, still in that maroon flannel shirt that made your heart freeze. 

Your first instinct was to run, and you did just that, bounding off the bed, glancing towards the door, but Dean was on that side. Your chest panting, you ran for the bathroom,  slamming the door shut and locking it, before sliding down it, and pressing your knees to your chest.

Trying to calm down your racing heart, you waited with baited breath, waiting for Dean to pound on the door, yelling at you, or worse, using his ice cold words as he found something to break the door down with.

You listened, hearing the scrape of a chair as he pushed it back, before you heard the heavy thud of his boots. But they didn't move near the bathroom door, instead they moved away. It was then you heard the quiet hush of voices, not just his, but Sam's too. In your haste to run away, you hadn't even noticed Sam in the room. 

"See Sam, I told you she would freak out. You should have left me behind." Dean muttered, sounding nothing like his demonic self. He sounded exhausted, and defeated. You listened, wondering what would happen next.

"She just needs time to calm down. Of course you scared her. The last time she saw you, you had just plunged a knife in her belly."

It was then you remembered your stitches, and you pulled back your shirt, not surprised to see that in place of the stitches was smooth and pale skin. They must have brought Cas back with them, and healed you while you were unconscious. 

"Y/N?" Sam's voice sounded from the other side of the door, soothing and quiet. "Can you let me in?"

You shook your head no, then realized your stupidity. He couldn't see you. "I don't think so Sam."

You heard Sam slide down the door, until he was leaning against it, just like you. You knew that with a shove of his powerful shoulders, Sam would have been able to break the lock easily. But that wasn't Sam, he didn't use his strength or size to his advantage, unless he was hunting monsters.

"Why did you have Cas heal me? I told him no twice." You asked, playing with the hem of your shirt.

"I know you didn't want healed, that you seemed to think you needed to feel the pain. But Y/N, once we broke open your door, we found you laying on the floor, all of your switches popped open, blood pooling out, and you shivering from a fever and lack of blood. If we had arrived much later, there would have been nothing to save. Why didn't you let me know how bad you were?"

Hearing how hurt and sick you had been didn't surprise you. You knew you had been reckless, and stupid by not letting Cas help you. Maybe in a way, you welcomed death, ready to leave all this pain behind.  "I didn't want to be saved." You simply said, tears starting to drip down your face. You knew now that Sam, and probably Dean, weren't going to let you run off on your own. They loved you too much for that.

Sighing, you stood up, your body still weak, even though you were healed. You turned the lock, and pulled the door open, surprising Sam, who had been leaning hard against the door. He was now laying on his back, staring up at you. Looking into the room you noticed Dean had moved his chair to the farthest corner of the room, bathed in darkness. 

Sam quickly got to his feet, before enveloping you in a hug. "Please don't do that again." He whispered against your hair, before stepping back.

Cautiously, you stepped into the room, your eyes trained on Dean the entire time, ready to turn tail and run back into the bathroom at a moments notice.

He didn't move, his arms crossed across his chest, his posture stiff. You couldn't see the expression on his face, and for a moment you wished he would move forward, Just so you could try to tell what he was thinking. 

Perching on the edge of the bed, you waited, wondering what they were going to do next. "How are you Dean?" You finally asked, curiosity getting the better of you. 

"I'll live. I'm more worried about you." He said simply. 

"You know me, always land on my feet." You joked, trying to cut the thick tension in the room. 

Dean moved, just slightly, but the movement was enough to unnerve you, and you flinched. Dean noticed, and he slid back into his chair. 

Sam watched the exchange, an unreadable expression on his face. Sighing, he realized that he was going to have to be the voice of reason, like usual. "Y/N, we are both worried about you. Please come back to the bunker with us?" 

You knew they would ask, and you already knew what your decision would be. "Is that what you want?" You asked Dean. 

"I only want you to be happy, and safe." He said.

Knowing you were probably crazy, you nodded your head. "Fine, let's go." You said, trying to control your urge to hide behind Sam as Dean stood up again. They both noticed, and Dean stormed out the door while Sam gave you a small, comforting smile.


	28. Your Return

You watched as Dean left the room, and you felt horrible. Your instinct told you to run after him, grab him in a bone crushing hug, and tell him all had been forgiven. That was your instinct, but you knew you wouldn't act on it, too much had happened recently, and you couldn't get past your fear or memories.

"Sam, are you sure that me coming back is the best thing for everybody?" You tentatively asked, wanting nothing more than for everyone to be happy, for things to go back to the way they used to. You knew it couldn't happen, but you wished it would. You watched as Sam shrugged his shoulders, giving the answer you didn't want.

"I really don't know. I know right now he's hurting pretty bad. He's really beating himself up for what he did to you, and I was hoping that the two of you might slowly work things out. Help each other heal." Sam answered truthfully.

"But what if we can't work things out? Right now I can hardly stand to be in the same room as him. I still love him, but the second he moves towards me, I want to run screaming the other way. How can I get past that?" You asked, as you threw your stuff in your bag. You still planned to go with them, at least until you could figure something else out.

"I believe in you. I know in your heart you are already forgiving him." Sam told you, grabbing your bag from you, before holding the door open. You stepped outside, looking to the black Impala parked next to your Mustang. Dean was leaning against the passenger door, his legs crossed at the ankles, his arms crossed across his chest. The sun shown down, and this time you were able to get a good look at him. He had dark circles under his eyes, and thick stubble across his chin. His eyes looked dark and hooded, his way of hiding his emotions. He watched you without moving, as you followed Sam to your car.

"Do you want me to ride with you?" Sam asked. "I could drive. That way you could rest a little more."

You took Sam up on his offer, knowing you were in no shape to drive yet, but not wanting to leave your car behind. You watched as Sam moved over to his brother, placing his hand on his shoulder, speaking intently to him before turning back to you. Dean watched, before silently climbing into the Impala, and guiding it out of the parking lot, leaving you and Sam in his dust.

"Are you sure he's okay to drive?" You asked, wondering how much the cure had cost him, if Sam should be driving him instead of you.

Sam just shrugged. "You know Dean. And it's probably a good relaxer for him, he loves driving his car so much."

The two of you settled into your car, you chuckling at the sight of the giant of man sitting in the smaller, hatchback car. He didn't fit very well, and had to scoot the chair back so his long legs would fit.

The first part of the road trip was quiet, spent watching the scenery out of the front windshield, hoping for a glance of a shiny, black car in front of you. But Dean was long gone, probably pressing the Impala as hard as he could, getting as far away from you as possible.

Deciding conversation would be a welcome distraction from your troubled thoughts, you faced Sam. "Tell me how the rest of the curing process went after I left."

He took his eyes off the road for a moment, his eyes full of sadness and guilt. "it was tough. He wasn't responding like we thought he would. Each time we injected him, he would growl in pain, blacking out multiple times. I thought for sure I was killing my own brother."

Trying to comfort him, you placed a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing the tight muscles. "But you didn't. And now he's cured. Thanks to you, who never gave up."

Sam shrugged your hand off. "Yeah but now what? He can't even stand himself. He remembers everything Y/N, and it's eating him alive. I'm surprised I even got him to come with me to come get you. Ever since the black eyes disappeared, he's been locked in his room, his only company the newest bottle of whiskey."

You fell silent again, your heart breaking for Dean. Of course you had known he would blame himself for everything, but a small part of you had wished those memories would have been swiped from his mind.

"How do we move past this?" You asked out loud, not really expecting an answer from Sam, but he gave one to you anyways.

"I'm going to be there, for both of you. I know you've given Dean so many chances since he took on the mark. But maybe, just maybe, you can give him one more. If you forgive him, then maybe he can start to forgive himself."

While Sam was talking, you realized you were already back at the bunker, Sam was just pulling into the garage. The Impala was already there, empty just as you expected.

Climbing out, you grabbed your bag, before heading down the hallway, Sam close behind. Slowly moving down the hallway, your body still sore, you froze at the sight in front of you. Your body tense, you stared at the sight in front of you, memories flooding your mind. The door was still smashed, a huge, gaping hole in the middle. The wood chips on the floor were gone, but it was still a cold reminder of what had just recently taken place, and it had you frozen to the spot.

"Yeah, I haven't had a chance to replace it yet. But I've put the rest of your stuff in another room. It's the one directly across from mine, I hope you don't mind." Sam told you, before nudging you, and you were finally able to move, following him down the hall until he came to his door. You opened the one across, finding your items had been once again boxed up.

The room was much the same as any other. A full size bed in the middle of the room, a universal tan blanket covering it. Two nightstands were placed on each side of the bed. A dresser was against one wall, along with an arm chair. There were two doors on the other side, one leading to a bathroom, the other probably a closet. It was old fashioned, and impersonal, but you didn't care. All that mattered right now was climbing into that bed and falling into a deep sleep. Everything else could wait until tomorrow.


	29. Awkwardness

It was the first time in a long time that you could remember waking up refreshed, and energized. Your body wasn't as sore, your mind no longer foggy and dull. The blanket might be scratchy against your skin, but you still reveled in the fact that you could cuddle under it, nobody banging on the door, or the threat of a Demon barging through your door at any moment.

Stretching, you wondered if it would be possible to stay in bed all day. You had never been one to laze about, but it seemed like the perfect thing to do today. To lay in bed, forgetting about everything that happened, and everything that was in your way now. You knew it was the cowards way out, but it sounded so good.

"Y/N, you awake?" Came Sam's voice through the door, and you knew that your idea of laying in bed was a no go. 

Sighing, you scooted your pillows up, before leaning against the plain wooden headboard. "Yeah, come on in."

He opened the door, and immediately you could smell the rich aroma of the coffee in his hand, along with the sickening sweet smell of the cinnamon roll on the plate in his other hand.

"Wait, did I die and go to heaven? Since when have we had cinnamon rolls in the bunker?" You asked, accepting both items, breathing in the intoxicating aromas. Taking a huge bite out of the cinnamon roll, you started moaning as the taste assaulted your senses.

Sam just chuckled at you, amused with how much you were like Dean. "I figured you could use a treat. I picked them up on my run this morning. Dean's already eaten three." He explained, before perching on the edge of your bed. "How are you feeling this morning?"

Taking a sip of the scalding liquid to wash the roll down, you waited a moment to answer. "So much better. I don't feel sore, and as if the entire word is out to get me."

"Great, now get that lazy ass out of bed, shower, and come join me in the library." Sam teased, but you could tell he was happy that you were doing much better. The stress of the last few days had really brought the two of you closer together. You had always been close friends, but you felt even closer than before to the human Moose.

You didn't answer him, instead you shoved another huge bite of the cinnamon roll in your mouth, deciding a second one was worth getting out of bed for. Throwing the covers off, you decided to forgo the shower in favor of getting another roll before Dean ate them all. Throwing on a pair of jeans, you slipped on a sweatshirt and grabbed your now empty coffee cup. 

Opening the door, you moved down the hallway, a spring in your step, the lure of the cinnamon roll too good to pass up. Bypassing the empty library, you walked right into the kitchen, where the smell of more cinnamon rolls and fresh coffee awaited you. You were so intent on your quest, that at first you didn't know you weren't alone.

The clearing of a throat quickly made you aware of that fact, and your eyes scanned the room, until you landed on Dean. He currently had a cup of coffee half way raised to his lips, a half eaten cinnamon roll in front of him on the table. His eyes wide, he waited to see what your next move would be. You stood frozen for a moment, fighting your urge to run away. You knew it was what he expected, but you didn't want to be that girl anymore. He wasn't that Demon, and you knew the both of you were punishing him for something he had no control over.

Forcing yourself to move, you ignored your increased heart rate, and acted as if everything was somewhat normal. Filling your coffee cup, grabbing another cinnamon roll from the container on the counter. The entire time you felt his eyes on you, the weight exciting you but at the same time unnerving you.

You knew sitting at the table would be too much to ask of yourself. So, instead you turned, and leaned against the counter. Dean's eyes were still glued to you, the coffee cup still suspended in the air. "Hi Dean." You said softly, trying to break the tension that was coating the room.

It was then Dean finally looked away from you, taking a sip of his coffee before setting it back down on the table. "Hi, Y/N." He replied, his voice soft and unsure, not something you usually heard from Dean.

The two of you stayed silent, both eating your cinnamon rolls in an awkward silence, each one not sure what to do next. It was Dean who tried again, once his plate was empty. "So, how are you?"

You swallowed your last bite before answering. "A lot better, thanks to you and Sam. If I hadn't been so stubborn..." You started, but the look on Dean's face stopped you.

"It wasn't me. It was my fault you were that way in the first place. You should be thanking Sam and Cas. I don't deserve it." Dean told you, self hatred dripping from his words.

You couldn't let it rest. "No Dean, it wasn't you, it was the Demon. Don't forget that. I don't." You reminded him, hoping it would finally get through that thick skull of his.

Standing up, he noticed the flinch that you had no control over, and you watched as the muscle in his jaw clenched. "Yeah but the Demon was still me. And all of those memories? Trapped in here, tormenting me." He told you, tapping the side of his head, staying on the far side of the table, trying to give you your much needed space.

Forcing your body to relax, you took a step towards him, noticing his surprise. "I know how hard it can be, I have a lot of horrible memories tormenting me night and day too. But maybe together, we can work through them, help each other out?" You suggested, your body still a little tense from the close proximity.

Dean scoffed at your suggestion. "How? You can hardly stand to be in the same room as me. I move, and you flinch. You might say that you know it wasn't all me, but your body doesn't agree. And I don't blame it. What I did to you, at that motel room, and here? It's killing me inside, and I wonder how you can even stand to look at me!" He told you, before storming out the kitchen door, just as Sam came through, not even giving you a chance to respond.


	30. Nightmare

"What happened?" Sam asked, coming in to pour himself a cup of coffee. He had already changed out of his running outfit, once again back in his usual jeans and plaid shirt. He stood next to you, silently giving you the comfort he thought you needed.

"We talked. At least we tried to. But he's still so guilt stricken, that he believes I will never forgive him. That I should never forgive him. Then I flinched, when he moved. I can't believe it! I was working so hard trying to stay calm on the outside." You told him, frustrated with how things with Dean had unfolded.

"It's a start. We can't expect the two of you to heal in a day." Sam told you, and you knew he was right. But it was so hard seeing Dean that way, but you also knew you were still aways away  from being healed yourself.

"So now what?" You asked, knowing you were probably putting too much on Sam's shoulders, but you couldn't help it. He was so compassionate and caring. Always there for you when you needed it.

"Now, I say we take a little bit of time to relax and heal before we even worry about hunting." Sam offered. You weren't sure how that would go, none of you had been very good with taking time off.

"Sure, and do what? Play games all day?" You teased.

You didn't wait for Sam to answer, instead you dropped your coffee cup in the sink before leaving the kitchen behind. You weren't sure what to do. Now that there weren't any hunts to go on, you figured you could head back to bed and catch up on some sleep. 

On your way back to your room, you noticed the library was empty. Dean must have been in his room, and you were kind of disappointed. You had wanted to have a chance to talk to him again.

Instead you shuffled down the hallway, past the closed door of Deans room, before stepping into your own. Slipping out of your jeans, you left the sweatshirt on and climbed back into bed, stifling a yawn as you sunk into the soft mattress. 

The coffee must have already kicked in because you had a hard time falling back to sleep. You kept tossing and turning, getting stuck in the covers, but unable to find a comfort spot. Giving up, you reached into one of the boxes, pulling out your favorite book. It was your go to item, something you always picked up to read when something was bugging you, or sleep was being elusive.

As usual, it calmed you down, and you felt your eyes slowly drifting shut, falling into a deep, deep sleep.

Dean was standing in front of you, his eyes black as he a wicked looking knife in his hands. "Don't you wish you had stayed back at the club?" He sneered, as you shivered. Glancing down, you noticed you were naked, strapped to a motel room bed, your arms and legs both strapped to the edges of the bed. Your body was already full of gashes and bruises, and you fought hard to get free.

"Dean, please no! You can fight this!" You pleaded, twisting your body to the side, but the straps were too tight, and you were stuck. He stepped forward, running the blade of the knife up your leg, hard enough that a thin line of blood swelled up in place.

You begged and pleaded, your words turning nonsensical as the blade traveled farther up your body. 

"I don't want to fight it. I'm having so much fun right now." He whispered, leaning down so his lips were against your ear. "Any idea how we can have some more?" He asked, before pressing the blade against the valley between your breasts.

Your cries were hoarse, deep sobs that you couldn't control. You waited, fearing what was to come next.

"Y/N! Wake up! Y/N!" You vaguely heard a voice yelling, but you were still caught up in the terror of the dream, and you thrashed about in your bed, trying to move away.

"Stop Y/N, please sweetheart, wake up." The voice said again, before a pair of strong hands grasped your shoulders, finally pulling you from the nightmare. 

Opening your eyes, your adrenaline still high, you freaked out again when a pair of familiar green eyes were situated above your own. Not thinking clearly, you wondered if this was still all part of the dream, and you screamed, before pushing his hands away.

Scooting out of bed as fast as you could, pulling the covers with you, you landed on your rump on the far side. Tears pouring down your cheeks, your entire body shook, from the adrenaline coursing through your body, and complete terror.

Dean climbed off the bed, his hands in the air, and it wasn't until then that you could start to breathe. As you took in big, gulping breaths, you notices you were no longer a prisoner in that horrible motel room, but were once again in the somewhat safe confines of the bunker.

By the time you had finally started calming down, Sam had run into the room, staring between you and Dean. "What the hell happened?" He asked.

"She was having a nightmare, I was just trying to help." Dean tried explaining, frustration and guilt dripping from his words. "I should have known her nightmare would be about me."

"Dean, I'm..." You started, but the look in his eyes stopped you. It was the look of utter defeat and hopelessness, and it brought fresh tears to your eyes. You knew the nightmares would come, after all you had been through some horrible times. It just hurt to know how much they affected you and everyone around you.

"I'm sorry." Dean said softly, so softly you almost didn't catch the words, before he turned and left the room. Sam was torn, wanting to comfort you, but at the same time wanting to chase his brother.

"Maybe we are pushing things too soon." He started, running his hands through his hair. "I might try to talk Dean into taking a little trip, get him away from all of this. You stay here, and we can try things again when we come back."


	31. Taking a Break

The first couple of days you were separated weren't too hard to deal with. You slept as late as you wanted, sometimes sleeping all day. It felt great to your body and your mind. Cas had done a great job healing you, with no bruise, cut or gash left behind, but you were still sore and weak. The sleep gradually eased them away, and you then found yourself moving around the bunker, taking time to notice the little changes that had taken place since you had been gone.

Not much had changed, but there were subtle differences in the kitchen and the library, with newer books, or cups, items most people wouldn't notice, but you did. Because every night you were locked into your room at the club, you pictured the bunker, walking through each room in your mind, trying to take your mind off of what you had seen, or been subjected to that day. You would gradually walk each room in your mind, making sure you didn't forget each small item, the funky ancient statue giving you as much comfort as Dean's green coat that was hanging by the stairs. It was the little things that made the bunker a home, and those had been the things you had clung on to, because you needed something. If you hadn't, you probably would have gone crazy a long time ago.

But now you knew all the new little changes by heart, and you were growing bored. Sam had only texted you a handful of times, each one saying the same thing. Hope everything is okay, we are working things out here. That was it, all you heard from them. You didn't expect anything different, but it was always short and to the point, and you had just wished for more. For him to say how Dean was doing, if they were coming back soon. Ask if you've had any more nightmares lately, if you were slowly regaining your strength. You felt so left out of the loop, and you felt responsible. Of course you've had more nightmares, it was going to be a while before they ever went away, if they ever did. But you could work past them, given an opportunity.

At first, you had been grateful for the time apart, knowing from the beginning that it was probably in everyone's best interests. But now, after you've had time to sit and think, and grow bored, you wanted nothing more than to see Dean's face again. You contemplated calling them, but you didn't want to push things too fast. Instead, you turned to cleaning, hoping that would keep your mind off of things. Turning the radio up as loud as you could, you sang along to the silly songs that came across, shaking your hips as you dusted, and disinfected. It had been too long since the place had a good cleaning, and you found yourself slowly enjoying the work. Time passed, and soon the entire bunker gleamed in the lamplight, smelling of lemons instead of dust, grime, and something else you didn't want to contemplate.

Wiping a hand across your sweat covered brow, you grab a cold beer, taking a long swallow before turning to your phone. You hardly ever checked it now, the only people you ever really cared about were together, and they weren't texting you or calling you very often. You had one text, from the person you least expected it from. It was a simple, and quick text, but the sight of it brought a gigantic smile to your eyes.

Sitting down at the table, you noticed the simple **_hi_** had come over an hour ago. Sighing, you hoped he hadn't given up on a reply, and was even more upset know.

 You quickly replied a simple _**hi**_ back, waiting to see if he would respond, and if he did, how.

Sipping your beer, you waited, almost giving up to go take a shower when your phone buzzed again. You glanced down at the words, smiling when you read it was from Dean again. **_I was worried when it took so long for you to text back._ **

You quickly sent of another reply, explaining that you had been cleaning, not ignoring him. It felt so nice to talk to him, even if it wasn't face to face, it was a place to start. 

 _ **Cleaning? You've been cleaning? What else have you been up to**_? He texted, and you felt your heart flip as you realized he had been teasing you.

 _ **Getting used to the bunker again, sleeping. Being bored. You?**_ Was your reply back, enjoying the back and forth conversation that you had been missing for so long, even if it seemed a little awkward.

His reply was instant. **_Driving, trying to sleep through Sammy's snoring. Thinking about you, wondering how you are?_**

 _ **I'm doing so much better, but I miss you. What about you? Are you doing better**_? You asked, wondering if the mark was still affecting him, and if he was letting his memories eat him alive.

 _ **I'm surving.** _ Was his reply. It was immediately followed by another text. _**Sammy found us a case. We head there tomorrow.**_

 _**A case? I thought you were taking it easy?**_ You quickly replied, a little upset they were planning on working a case without you.

 _ **I'm bored, I need to work. Then we will be home. I will keep you informed.**_ Was his reply, not surprising you at least. Dean was never happy unless there was another case lined up.

 _ **Please be safe.** _ You texted back, wondering how you were going to keep yourself occupied while they were hunting.

 ** _I will, but i wasn't sure my safety mattered to you anymore._** Was his response, and it broke your heart that Dean thought you had already given up on him.

 _ **Dean, I love you. Of course your safety matters to me, I want you to come back to me in one piece.** _ You shot back.

 _ **But how can you still love me, even after everything? The nightmares?**_  He replied, and you were glad this conversation was not happening face to face because if it was you probably would have punched him.

 _ **The nightmares aren't just about you. And I will always love you, no matter what. No arguments. It might take me time to get comfortable around you again, but you haven't lost my love. Now go kill whatever monster your after, and come back home.** _ You typed quickly, before pressing send.

A reply didn't come back, and you felt yourself sighing, knowing that you had a hard, uphill battle on your hands. Because making Dean believe in himself, and your relationship, while fixing your fears, was going to be hard. But you were ready to fight.


	32. Smile

It was a werewolf hunt, and they had no idea how long they would be gone. That was the last text you had gotten, and that was three days ago. During that time, you had gone completely stir crazy, the bunker feeling more like a prison than a home.

You had finally taken your Mustang to town, stopping first at a little mom and pop cafe, needing human interaction and real food. The last of the edible food in the bunker had been eaten yesterday, and you were ready to eat something you didn't have to smell first.

It was nice, and relaxing, your waitress an older woman who stayed and chatted quietly with you for a moment before placing your order. When she brought your food back, she stayed, asking you questions, giving you advice. It was exactly the sort of conversation you needed, nothing to pushy or probing, it was like talking to a loving grandmother.

Afterwards, you stopped at the grocery store, throwing anything you could think of into the cart, snack items, ingredients for dinner, stuff to make a pie. You even grabbed some new books and movies, hoping they would solve your boredom problem.

You slowly made your way back to the bunker, driving around town, taking any little street that took your fancy, delaying your return as long as you could. But soon the roads ended, and you ended up taking the small country road out to the bunker, going as slow as possible. The sun was shining, there was a slight breeze to the air, and you weren't quite ready to be stuffed back in doors yet.

Before you were ready, you were pulling your Mustang into the garage, a little disappointed when a shining black car wasn't there to greet you. Grumbling under your breath, you grabbed as many bags as you could carry in one go, staggering down the hallway to the kitchen. It took two more trips before all the bags were on the table. Turning on the radio, you sang along as you put stuff away, leaving items out to make a sandwich, and the ingredients to make a pie. You loved pie almost as much as Dean. 

Munching on your sandwich, you contemplated your choices. You had bought enough items that you could make two pies, so your decision was between making an apple pie, or a cream pie. You decided on the apple, because you needed some sense of normalcy in your life. Even if it was just a pie. Cranking the radio as loud as it would go, you began the messy task of making the crust. You had always enjoyed baking, but you always seemed to make a mess doing it.

Half an hour later, your pie was in the oven, and you were just getting a beer out of the fridge when you thought you heard a noise. Turning the radio off, you listened again, when you heard what sounded like feet stomping in the hallway. Setting your beer down, you grabbed a knife and slowly peeked around the door frame. The bunker was dark, you had been so busy baking you hadn't had a chance yet to turn any more lights on. 

Grateful you were in bare feet, you were able to walk down the hallway, not making a sound, as you looked around each bend, wondering what you had heard. Your heart pounding, you glance in the library, surprised to see one of the table lamps on.

It was then you could vaguely hear voices. You stayed pressed against the wall, listening. "She wasn't in her room. Why don't you go check the kitchen?" You heard Sam's voice say, and you relaxed, realizing the brothers were back from their hunt. Storing the knife in the back of your pants, you walked into the room, seeing both men at the far end.

"Hey boys." You said, your voice barely containing your excitement at seeing them again. As they turned around, you surprised everyone by rushing forward, and jumping into the first pair of arms you came too. They wrapped around you, holding you tight to a warm and sturdy chest. A chest you had laid your head on many times.

"Hey Y/N." Dean said. At first he stood their stiffly, and you knew he had been expecting you to run the other way. But then he slowly relaxed, his arms tightening around you, as he tilted his head so his chin was resting on your hair.

You felt someone pat your back, before footsteps led away. "Nice seeing you too Y/N. I'm going to go get cleaned up." Sam said, as he left the two of you alone.

As soon as Sam was gone, Dean gently pulled you away, but kept his arms on your shoulders, the both of you enjoying each others touch. "What was that for?" He asked, a slight smile on his face. You stood there, speechless, as you stared at the smile. It was the first time in months you had seen a real smile on his face, and the sight of it brought a matching one to yours.

"I missed you." You told him truthfully. His green eyes captured yours, and the two of you stayed that way, lost in the way things used to be, before he gently lifted one hand from your shoulder, and rubbed your cheek. You stayed still, forcing yourself not to flinch, even though it was hard. His finger came away white, and he glanced at it, raising an eyebrow in question.

You shrugged. "I was baking. It was so boring here, by myself. I was going stir crazy." You told him, and his eyes lit up.

"Baking? What were you baking?" He asked.

You grabbed his hand, forcing him to follow you. He jumped at the contact, and you knew the both of you might be pushing things too fast, but after being apart so long, it felt nice. He joined you in the kitchen, where you grabbed him a beer, before pulling the pie from the oven. "I made a pie." You told him smugly, and you watched as he licked his lips.

You set it out to cool, before sitting down next to him, taking a sip of your beer. The two of you stayed silent, watching the steam escape the pie, neither one wanting to ruin the moment. Finally you spoke. "I know it's been hard. But hopefully the time apart helped us through some things. But I don't want to be apart anymore. Please. It was hard, not knowing how you were, what you were doing. Can we please just deal with this together?" You begged, knowing your problems were by no means fixed, but you were a step closer in the right direction.

"I missed you too." He told you, grabbing your hand and holding it tightly, and you were so proud of yourself that you didn't jump or flinch at the touch. "Now, how about that pie?"


	33. Back to Normal

After that evening spent munching on pie with Dean, you were ready to go hide in your room and crash. It had been wonderful, spending time with Dean, both of you getting used to being around each other again, but you were still exhausted. It was easier, being around Dean, but you still felt your body tense, especially when he moved, and you had to fight to make yourself relax, and not flinch every time his hand moved your way. It was hard, and tiring, but worth it in the end, seeing Dean's face lighten up as the evening went on, some of the guilt and self hatred slowly slip from the set of his shoulders, and the depth of his eyes.

So when they both kicked their feet up, and the whiskey started pouring, you excused yourself, making a beeline for your room. Once there you took a deep breath, before changing into your sleep clothes, before laying on your bed, finally relaxing for the first time since the brothers had arrived back home.

You thought back to the afternoon, so grateful that things had gone so well with you and Dean. You had loved being able to jump in his arms and hug him, going with your instinct. But every other time, you had to force yourself to move near him, to not jump when he placed his hand on yours. You knew it was only a matter of time before Dean figured out you were acting, but you hoped it would turn into something more, like old times, before that happened. 

Sleep that night had been slow to come, your brain refusing to power down, instead deciding to bring every little thing back to light, running it full speed through your head. You tossed and turned, the covers tangling around you, until finally you fell into a restless sleep. 

The next morning, you drug yourself out of bed, feeling as if you hadn't slept a wink. Throwing on a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt, you moved towards the kitchen, where Sam and Dean were already busy eating breakfast and reading the paper.

You poured yourself a cup of coffee, before deciding to make yourself some toast. While you bustled around the kitchen, Sam stayed glued to his paper, but you felt Dean's eyes on you, following you everywhere. Before you sat down, you heard Sam exclaim from behind you.

"I think I found us a job. It's two states over, but people have been dying mysteriously, and the autopsy show their brains have shriveled up. So far four people have died." Sam told you, as you and Dean listened on.

"So, we're thinking a wraith?" Dean asked, as you sat down across from him, next to Sam. If he noticed you hadn't sat down in your usual spot next to him, he didn't say anything. "The last we hunted made us crazy for a while."

"So, let's finish breakfast and we'll go." You replied, before taking a big bite of your toast, ready to get out of the bunker, and back to some sort of normalcy. You were itching to hunt, to get away, back on the road, where there was nothing but the three of you travelling along in the Impala.

But as you eagerly took your next bite, you didn't miss the look the two brothers shared in between them. "What?" You asked.

"Y/N, it's not that we don't want you to go hunting. But you've had some crappy things happen to you recently, and you've been off of hunting for a while now." Sam told you, before shoveling a mouthful of granola into his mouth. 

Dean stayed silent, knowing he was treading very lightly here. He had no right to keep you from hunting when he had just gone through as much as you had. 

"So? There's no time like the present to get back in the saddle again." You told them.

"We just don't want you to get hurt." Dean finally spoke up, his green eyes watching you carefully, trying to gauge your reaction. "Why don't you stay behind, then when we get back, we can train, get you ready for the next hunt."

Taking a deep breath, you shook your head. "No. I'm coming with. I can at least help with research, and then be backup if you need it. I promise I won't push myself too hard." 

Sam and Dean both shared another look, before sighing, and you knew you had won. "Fine, you can come with. But you are strictly on research. Got it?" Dean gave in, as you knew he would. He could never say no to you.

The three of you quickly finished your breakfast, before separating, each one heading to their room to pack for the trip. You were the first one to the Impala, your bag thrown in the back, seated in the back seat, a book on your lap, as you waited for Sam and Dean to show up.

Within five minutes, they were packed and ready to go, and the Impala was heading down the road. Sam was staring out the window, while Dean was busy studying the road, the radio silent for once. It was oddly quiet, and uncomfortable.

"Dean, some music please?" You begged, needing something to break the silence. Dean complied, turning it on, and an old Bob Seger song started playing. At first, you just listened along, enjoying the tempo, but soon you felt yourself tapping your fingers to the rhythm, humming along.

Dean caught your glance in the rear view mirror, smiling as he noticed how much you were enjoying the song. Soon, the two of you started singing along, you leaning forward, ignoring Sam's annoyed face. The song soon switched to another one, but it had done it's job. The three of you were more relaxed now, and you leaned back, your head against the window, ready to enjoy the road trip.


	34. One Step Closer

After the awkward beginning of the road trip, the rest went smooth. Sam dozed off, leaving you and Dean alone to sing along to the rock songs and argue about directions. It was about four hours into the road trip when you realized you hadn't flinched, not even once. There had been ample opportunities, like when he had raised his hand off the steering wheel to grab the map from your hands, or when he reached back to scratch his neck. Each of those times you had stayed still, waiting to see what would happen, but breathing a sigh of relief when you didn't feel your entire body tense.

It was a wonderful feeling, and soon you felt yourself getting closer to him, leaning over the seat, using your arms as a headrest as you both stared at the map together. When he made a wise crack remark, you found yourself slapping his shoulder without a second thought. It was funny, afterwards, the two of you stared at each other, both wide eyed, ready for the other to fumble, or break down. But when it didn't come, you both breathed a sigh of relief before continuing on.

By hour six you were exhausted and ready to be out of the car. By then Sam was awake, and you had laid down in the backseat, your eyes closed as you tried to fight against sleep.

"She asleep?" You heard Dean ask quietly, and you made sure your breathing was slow and even. You weren't sure why, but you felt the need to feign sleep.

"Yeah." Sam replied.

"How do you think she's doing?" Dean asked, his voice soft, making sure you didn't wake up.

Sam was quiet for a moment before he answered. "Truthfully I think she's doing remarkably well. After everything that happened to her, most people would have gone crazy. But she's tough. She'll pull through. You both will." 

It was quiet again, and you were almost asleep when Dean spoke up again. "Did she...Has she ever talked about what happened to her?"

You heard Sam sigh. "No, she hasn't said a word. I know it isn't healthy for her to keep it all in, but I don't want to force her to talk."

When Dean spoke again, his voice was hoarse, full of emotion. "I remember everything from being a Demon. And I know what I did was horrible. But Sammy, the place I took her from. That place was the stuff of nightmares, and she was there for a long time.I don't know how anyone could have survived that place for as long as she did."

"She hasn't talked about it. Neither have you. But I know it had to have been horrible." Sam replied, not wanting to push the boundaries.

Before they could continue their conversation about you, you felt the Impala slowing down, before it came to a complete stop. Pretending to sleep still, you waited, as both Sam and Dean climbed out of the car, Sam taking off to get the room.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you. "Come on Y/N, we're here. Wake up." Dean told you, and you yawned, before climbing out of the car, grabbing the bag Dean was holding out to you. By this time, Sam had returned, and the three of you tiredly stumbled to your room.

Inside, you didn't pay any attention to the room, you headed straight for the bathroom, where you changed into a pair of shorts, and a tank top, before heading back into the room. It was then you noticed there was no couch, just a table and the two beds. Sam had already claimed one, he was spread out across it, leaving no room for you. Turning to the other one, you were surprised to see it unoccupied. Dean was standing at the window, already dressed in sleep pants and a t-shirt, and you could see by the tenseness in his shoulders that he was nervous, or upset about something. 

Setting your bag down on the table, you moved to stand over next to him, and he glanced at you, his eyes unreadable in the darkened room. "What is it?" You asked.

Sighing, he looked at the bed, then back at you. "Why don't you go to bed. I'll just go bunk in the Impala for the night."

"Dean, this is silly. We are two adults. We are both exhausted. Just climb into bed. It will be alright." You pleaded, grabbing his arm, and pulling him to bed. He didn't put up a fight, instead he let you lead him like a puppy. You pushed on his shoulder, and sighing, he sat down on the bed, and you moved to the other side. Reaching over, you flipped the light switch, bathing the room in darkness. The both of you laid there, neither one moving, both looking up at the ceiling. 

"Good night Dean." You finally whispered, before turning on your side and falling asleep instantly.

"Y/N, get back out there. He's back and he's asking for you." Sally told you as you cowered in the bathroom, trying to make it through another day of the place you called hell.

"Him? He's back? Why can't another girl help him?" You pleaded. "He almost killed me last time!" You said, shivering as you remembered how he had left you openly bleeding in one of the many back rooms.

Sally just shrugged. "It's you he wants. I'm not sure why, you've let yourself go. You won't last here much longer." Sally told you, and you let out a helpless whimper. You hadn't let yourself go, it was this job, it turned you into walking zombies. And then it killed you.

Sally didn't take no for an answer, instead she just pushed you out the door, and into the open arms of the Vampire standing outside waiting for you. "Y/N, were you hiding from me?" He asked, displeasure turning his voice to ice.

"No." You whimpered, but he grabbed your arm, tightly enough to leave bruises, dragging you to a secluded edge of the club. There, he pushed you down into a chair before leaning over, licking your neck, and you fought to get away. "No, please don't!" You begged, but he didn't listen, he just laughed, enjoying the fight.

You shoved, but in your weakened state you were no match for the vampire, and his teeth quickly sunk into your neck and you screamed.

"Y/N! Wake up!" You heard, but you couldn't get past the pain, and the fear, and you felt yourself shaking, but you could still see the Vampire's dead eyes, and hear his evil chuckle as he tried to drink you dry.

"Y/N!" You heard again, and this time you fought, trying to force your way to the sound of your name, and you found your eyes opening, the first thing you see was a pair of green eyes full of concern staring at you. 

"Dean?" You whisper, before crushing yourself against his chest. He wasn't expecting that, and he almost fell off the bed from the force of your hug, but he was soon wrapping his arms around you. You were sobbing into his chest, the nightmare bringing back memories you had tried so hard to hide.

Dean rocked you in his arms the entire time, rubbing soothing circles across your back as he whispered soothing words into your ear. Finally you calmed down enough that you leaned back, looking up at Dean through red rimmed eyes. 

"Was it because of me?" He asked, and you shook your head, tears threatening to pour again at the thought.

"No." You said through your hiccups. "It was about the club. Sally, the manager was forcing me to serve her favorite customer. He tried to kill me, multiple times." You said, not sure if they understood a single word through your garbled speech.

They must have understood, because you watched as Dean clinched his fists in anger, and Sam turned away from where he was standing behind his brother. Their anger was enough to bring another bought of tears, and you found yourself curling into a ball, your tears soaking the pillow. It was a horrible feeling, reliving those wretched memories, and you knew there was nothing you could do about it.

"Shh. It's alright. You're not there anymore. And as soon as I get a chance, I want to blow that place to smithereens." Dean told you, before wiping your tears away. He laid back down, and gently pulled you into his arms, going slow so not to scare you away. You were too worn out from that dream to put up a fight, and soon you found yourself in Dean's arms, the nightmare slowly fading away. This time when you slept, it was peaceful and deep.


	35. The Wraith

The next morning you woke up, stretching your arms over your head as you smiled. It was the best sleep you had had in a long time, and you felt energized and ready to go. Moving your hand to the side of the bed, you were surprised and disappointed to feel it empty and cold.

You remembered what happened last night, the horrible dream, and finding comfort in Dean's arms. But now the bed beside you was empty, and you wondered if Dean had done it out of pity for you.

Feeling a little depressed at the thought, you turned to your side, cuddling into a ball.

"Hey sleepy head." Dean's voice sounded from across the room, and you cracked open an eye to see him standing at the open door, a take out bag in one hand, and coffees in the other.

Sitting up, you rubbed your eyes, before climbing out of bed, noticing Dean's eyes following your every movement. Instead of getting dressed, you went and sat down at the table, grabbing the coffee Dean was offering you. You breathed in the heavenly aroma, before turning to face Dean.

"How did you sleep?" He asked as he pulled breakfast burritos out of the bag and handing one to you. 

"I slept fine, after. Thanks to you." You told him, before taking a big bite of your burrito.

He studied you for a moment, his burrito forgotten. "I can't believe you turned to me last night. After everything, you still turned to me for comfort." 

It was then  Sam came out of the bathroom, his hair still dripping wet. He looked between the two of you, before silently grabbing his burrito and coffee and escaping to the other end of the room.

"Of course I would turn to you, I still love you." You said simply, but Dean shook your answer away.

"But why? After everything that happened, it was all my fault. You should be running from me, not looking for solace in my arms." He said sadly, and you wanted to curl into his chest, to let him know that he was a good person, and the things that happened were out of his control.

"Because you've always been there for me." You started, but he scoffed. "It's true, and when you weren't it wasn't your fault. You had died! You were a Demon! Now can we get back to the case?" You asked, finishing your burrito and heading into the bathroom to get ready for the day, ignoring the bewildered look you had left on Dean's face. 

Twenty minutes later you were dressed and ready, only to find out you were being left behind. 

"You said you would stick to research." Dean reminded you. 

"But..." You pleaded, but Dean shook his head, and Sam placed his hand on your shoulder. 

"Why don't we drop you off at the library, there are some books there that could be useful." He told you, trying to make you feel better about being stuck to research duty.

"Fine." You grumbled, aware that you wouldn't be getting your way that day. You frowned on your way to the car, and continued sulking as they left you at the old county library. 

"It's only gonna be an hour or so. We need to check out the victims, question the local authority. I'll call you when we're done. Then maybe we can go out for a beer afterwards." Dean promised as you leaned outside his window. 

"Promise?" You asked, and he nodded.

"Okay then." You replied, before surprising the both of you by leaning down and pressing a quick, chaste kiss to his cheek.

You waited as the drove off, before heading up the stairs of the old brick building, moaning when you realized how massive the place actually was.

"Can I help you?" A woman's voice from beside you asked, and nodding your head you faced her. She was pretty, and young, in her early twenties. She was dressed in simple black pants and a blue Polo with the libraries name on it, her dark brown hair pulled back with a headband. She had a smile on her face, and was a little too perky for your taste.

"Yes please. Where are your books on monsters, and lore?" You asked, thinking it curious when her smile slipped away.

"Why are you wanting to look through those silly old books? Why today is the perfect day to sit down with a nice romance novel." She told you, trying to lead you over to the novel section.

Pulling your arm from her grasp, you shook your head. "No thank you, this is really important. I guess I can find it on my own." 

She sighed, before pointing up the stairs. "It's on the third floor, towards the back, on the left. Good luck."

Glad to be rid of the pesky Librarian, you followed her directions, to the quietest part of the library. Going through, you pulled down all the books that looked like they might be helpful, setting them on a table hidden in the back.

Hours later your back was sore, your eyes were crossed, and you had started to forget what you were even looking for. It was the  you received a text from Dean. 

On our way. It's for sure a wraith.

Knowing you didn't have much time, you left the books on the table, feeling a little guilty for doing so. As you hurried to the front door, the same pesky Librarian came up to you again. "Did you find what you were looking for?" She asked, a curious glint to her eyes.

"Not really, but thanks for your help." You told her, trying to get past her, but she grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

"I'm so sorry about that. Why don't you come back tomorrow, maybe I can help you more then." 

You shook your head before removing your arm from her grasp. "That's alright, thanks though."

Hurrying away, you took the stairs two at a time, relieved to see the Impala waiting for you at the edge of the sidewalk. Sliding into the back seat, you unconsciously rubbed your arm where her grasp had been. 

How'd research go?" Dean asked, as he glanced back in the rear view mirror.

You shrugged your shoulders. "I found nothing. But it doesn't matter if you already know what it is. But the librarian was weird. She kept grabbing my arm." 

Dean chuckled. "Maybe she had a thing for you."

"You wish." You retorted. "No, it wasn't like that. It was different, hard to explain. She wanted me to come back tomorrow."

Sam turned in the seat so he could look you in the eye. "Well don't worry about it, you won't have to go back. We already know how to kill it."

As the Impala sped down the road, you started to feel dizzy, a little uncentered, like your head was foggy. Closing your eyes, you titled your head back, leaning it against the seat. It didn't help, and the motion of the Impala was making it worse.

"Dean, can you pull over?" You pleaded, not wanting to get sick in his Impala.

"We're almost back to the motel, can't it wait?" He asked, before looking back at you. He must of not liked what he had seen because the Impala came to a screeching halt at the side of the road.

He opened your door and moved to help you out, but you flinched when his hand came towards you. A frown on his face, he stepped back, letting you climb out on your own. Once out of the car, you took in big gulping breaths of the fresh air, trying to calm down. But everything seemed to be spinning.

"Y/N, what's a matter?" He asked, still not trying to touch you again. "You're face is white."

You turned to tell him you didn't feel good, but the sight in front of you had you scrambling away from him, sobs ripping out of your throat, as you fell on your knees in a haste to get away. Dean's eyes followed your every movement, but they were no longer his gorgeous green eyes, they were once again fully black and it terrified you.


	36. Infected

Dean's black eyes haunted you, while the gravel was crushed underneath your knees, you pulled yourself up, and started running, away from the Impala, away from the chance that he might harm you again.

"Y/N!" You heard him yell, but you couldn't turn back now. After all this time, and the Demon was back. You weren't sure if you could handle that information, it was almost enough to push you over the edge.

Before you knew it a pair of strong arms were wrapped around you, and no matter how much you kicked or screamed, they wouldn't let go.

"Y/N, it's me, Sam. Stop!" Sam pleaded, and you went limp in his arms, surprising him so much the two of you almost fell to the ground. Turning in his arms, you pressed your head to his chest, sobbing into his shirt.

He let you, for a moment, before grabbing your shoulders with his hand and pulling you back. "What the hell happened back there? I thought you and Dean were doing so much better."

You shuddered, the thought of Dean's black eyes enough to send tremors through your body. "Sam, didn't you seem them? The cure didn't work!" You explained, but Sam just looked at you confused.

"See what?" He asked for clarification.

"Dean's eyes! They're black again! He's a Demon again, and he's going to come after me, and try to kill me again, and..." You found yourself blabbering, the thought of what could happen enough to send you in hysterics again.

"Shh Y/N, it's alright. Dean's not a Demon, it was a trick of the light or something." Sam tried explaining, and you wondered if he was right. If you had overreacted over something so silly. Sam grabbed your hand, and the two of you walked back to the car, where Dean stood leaning against it, his arms crossed, his stance weary. 

Sam pushed you in front of him, so you were standing face to face with Dean. Your eyes slowly traveled up his body, past the little cut on his chin, past his plump lips and his nose to his eyes, which were a glorious shade of green.

"See?" Sam reiterated, and you felt stupid, ashamed that you had let something like a trick of the light upset you so much.

"I'm so sorry." You whispered, before climbing into the backseat, not knowing what else to say.

It was moments later before the brothers joined you, and silence rained as Dean drove the few short miles back to the motel. As soon as you and Sam were out of the Impala, Dean rolled down his window. "I'm going for a food run." Was all he said, before you and Sam were eating his dust.

You followed Sam inside, still feeling dizzy and queasy. As soon as you were inside, you plopped down on the bed, your head in your hands, moaning.

"Want to talk?" Sam asked, sitting on the bed next to you.

"Did I just ruin everything?" You asked, your voice muffled through your hands.

Sam rubbed soothing circles on your back. "No, you didn't. It probably set things back, but you and Dean will get through this. You are both too strong to let something like this ruin it for you."

You smiled at that last statement, your love for Dean growing stronger through this tough time. Moving your hands away, you looked up at Sam, but all you could see was the Vampire from the club.

"What are you doing here?" You squealed, before climbing the bed, quickly moving to the other side. "You can't be real! Please, you can't be real!" You sob as the vampire stands up and stares at you.

"Y/N?" The vampire said, in a voice that sounded a lot like Sam's and you shook your head, closing your eyes. When you opened them again, it was to Sam's face staring at you in concern.

Dropping your head into your hands, you started crying. "I'm going crazy, aren't I? My mind has had enough, and is shutting down."

Sam grabbed your shoulders, looking into your eyes. "Y/N, this is important. Did anyone touch you while you were at the library?"

Nodding your head, you answered him. "Yeah, that creepy librarian who didn't want me looking at the lore books. She touched my arm twice. Why?"

Sam ran his hand through his hair before he answered you. "Because I think you've been infected by the wraith."

You shrank back in surprise. You had never hunted a wraith before, and you really didn't have any idea what to expect. "What does that mean?" You asked him, as your heart beat slowed down, and you came back to the bed, sitting next to him.

"Well, this one seems to enjoy fear on their victims, so that's why you saw Dean with the black eyes, and whatever it was just now. If we don't kill her soon, you will go completely insane, fear causing it." He explained to you.

"So what do I do?" You asked, afraid that you might have lived through the club and Demon Dean just to die by fear. 

Sam smiled weakly at you. "We keep you safe until we can find her and stab her with silver."

He left the bed then, heading over to the table and powering up his laptop. While he was busy with that, you turned the tv on, but nothing caught your attention, and soon you found yourself channel surfing, not paying too much attention to any of the channels.

Before you knew it, you heard the rattling of the door, and Dean stepped through the door, fast food bags in his hands. He glanced wearily at you, before heading towards Sam.

He stayed busy, pulling food out of the bags, handing Sam his salad, before finally turning to you. As he came closer, the drink morphed into a knife, and all you could think about was the night back in the bunker.

"Dean, please no!" You begged, once again climbing over the bed, trying to get away from the threat. You watched as Dean glanced down at the knife, before looking at you, an evil glint in his eyes.

"Y/N, fight it! It's not real!" Sam yelled, and you shook your head, trying to clear it. This time it took longer than the first, but when you finally opened your eyes up again, you saw Dean standing there, a hamburger and drink in his hand, a heartbroken expression on his face.

"What the hell is going on?" He asked. "Last night you jumped in my arms, today you can't stand the sight of me! I'm so frickin confused right now." He said, dumping your food on the nightstand before standing back.

"Dean, she's been infected." Sam started to explain.

"With what?" Dean asked, not getting at what Sam was hinting at.

Sam sighed. "She's been infected by the wraith. And this wraith likes her victims crazy with fear."

Dean nodded, everything finally falling into place for him, relief relaxing the features of his face. "Thank god."

"What?" Both you and Sam asked, confused that Dean seemed okay with it.

Dean held his hands up, protecting himself from the both of you. "I didn't mean it like that! I was just worried Y/N was pulling away from me again."


	37. Hunting the Wraith

You were furious. Things had just started to get better with Dean, the two of you moving past what had happened, and a stupid wraith had to come in and mess it all up. You wanted to rush right down to the library, and stab her with your silver knife, watching the life fade from her eyes.

"So how should we handle this? I don't really want to go crazy on the two of you." You said, staying far enough away from the both of them, in case something happened again.

Dean stayed next to Sam, munching on his hamburger, trying to give you as much space as possible. "We keep you safe, and at the same time, track her down and kill her. At least we know who she is." Sam said, ignoring the food next to him as he glanced down at his laptop.

"But what if she's moved on? She certainly pegged me as a hunter right away. She could be scared." You said, hyperventilating at the thought that she might be gone, and you would be stuck like this. "Wait, will I be stuck like this if we don't find her?"

Sam finally looked up then, a frown on his face. "I'm not sure. Either it wears off, or it will keep going and going until your heart gives out from fear."

Hearing your fears confirmed took your breath away, and for a moment you felt like you were going to be asphyxiated. Dean noticed how red you were getting, and he raced over to you, taking your face in his hands.

"Woah Y/N calm down. We will figure this thing out. Now breath." He said, his words calm, and they did the trick, because you were finally able to take in a deep, gulping breath.

"I hate this." You grumbled. 

All Dean could do was give you a small, reassuring smile. "You just need to stay here and relax. Sam and I are going back to the library, see what we can find out." He told you, before standing up and grabbing his coat. Sam followed his lead, and soon the two of them were heading for the door. "Lock the door after us, and do not leave this room." Dean told you before shutting the door.

Racing over, you locked it, before leaning your back against the faded door, your heart racing at the thought of being all alone. "Stupid, your just being stupid." You kept repeating to yourself, but the room was too quiet, too empty after Sam and Dean had left, and it was starting to creep you out.

Turning to the TV for a distraction, you flipped through the channels until you settled onto a mind numbing comedy. Grabbing your forgotten hamburger, you spent the next half an hour eating your food and laughing at the TV.

Once that show was over, it switched to a drama, and soon it became too much for you to handle. The dead bodies began to remind you that you could die soon, and you turned it off. The silence wasn't much better, it was deafening to your ears, and soon you were covering them with your hands, trying to make it stop. 

The buzzing kept getting louder and louder, and soon you were rocking, unable to control the sobs that were tearing from your mouth, as the buzzing turned to voices. Dean's voice mixed with Sam's, and they mixed with those of the patrons of the club. Each one yelling at you, telling you how useless you were, how nobody cared for you. Dean's voice was louder than anyone's, telling you it had been him all along trying to kill you, not the Demon. That he was with you because of pity.

"No!" Became your Mantra, and you curled into a ball, hugging your knees tightly to your chest as you rocked back and forth. The words became too much to fight however, and soon, feeling like a Zombie, you stood up, leaving the bed to walk over to the table. 

Glancing around, you noticed Dean had left behind his knife, it laid half hidden underneath yesterday's newspapers. Your movements jerky, you grabbed the handle, holding it out in front of you as you turned and walked past the beds. You vaguely heard pounding on the door, and your name being spoken, but the voices in your head were too strong to resist, telling you that it would be easier for everyone this way. 

Turning the bathroom light switch on, you stared into the mirror, your hand holding the knife shaking as you brought it up to your chest. Your fear of bringing everyone down was suffocating you, and you wanted to end it before you disappointed anyone else. Raising it high, you were ready to bring it down, but a hand grabbed your wrist, tight enough that you dropped the blade.

"What the hell Y/N?" Dean's voice yelled, breaking you out of the trance, and you stared down at shock at the knife laying in the sink.

"What just happened? You whispered, horrified that you had been so close to taking your own life. Chocking on a sob, you crushed yourself to Dean's chest, embarrassed that he had to see you like that.

Before you knew it, he was gently pulling you away, wiping at your tears. "It's the stupid infection Y/N. What was it telling you?" He asked.

You shook your head, not wanting to tell him the fact that it had played on your weakness, your feelings of inadequacy. "It's nothing." You mumbled.

He guided you out into the room, where Sam was standing, a look of concern on his face. 

"Thank you." You told the both of them. "If you hadn't of come back when you did..." You said, before trailing off.

"Well, maybe it was a good thing she wasn't at the library. But we did find her address." Sam said, trying to take the attention away from the fact that you had just tried to kill yourself.

"Yeah, but we came back to check on you before we headed over there. Good thing we did." Dean told you, still beside you, his hand still resting on the small of your back.

Leaning your head against his shoulder, you nodded. "Now what?"

Sam and Dean glanced at each other. "We aren't sure. We can't leave you here by yourself, but we can't take you with us." 

"I'll stay." Dean volunteered. "It's just a wraith, should only take one of us. So you go, and kill her, and I will make sure Y/N stays safe." 

Sam frowned. "Are you sure that's such a good idea? She seems to have a harder time around you right now, more so than with me."

Dean pouted, annoyed with Sam's logic, but you broke up the would be argument. "It's alright Sam. I know Dean will be able to bring me back, if I get too bad."

He glanced between the two of you, still not happy with the plan, but finally conceding that it might work. Grabbing his silver knife and bullets, he caught the keys as Dean threw them. Opening the door, he glanced back at the two of you. "Y/N, maybe you should lock yourself in the bathroom. Dean can keep watch from out here, but maybe it will help."

With that he was gone, and you looked at Dean, wondering how long of a night this was going to be.


	38. Worse Than a Nightmare

After Sam had left, you and Dean stood staring at each other awkwardly, neither one ready to make the first move.

Dean spoke first. "So, how do you feel?" 

You shrugged, not feeling too horrible, minus the headache and dizziness that were currently reeling around in your brain. "Well, you're still you. And the good you."

He shook his head. "I'm not good. I'm just me." And you knew he believed what he said.

"Dean, listen to me. I know that you've done things you're not proud of, we all have. But you have done a hell of a lot more good than most people." You told him, knowing it would take multiple attempts before he would believe this about himself.

He just nodded, ending the conversation without any further comments. You watched as he sat down on the bed, stretching his legs out in front of him. Standing in the same spot, you fiddled with your fingers, not sure what to do. Maybe you should follow Sam's advice, locking yourself into the bathroom before things became worse. But you didn't really want to be alone, because it seemed like when you were alone the worst things happened. 

"Are you just going to stand there?" Dean asked, patting the spot on the bed next to him, and you smiled at him, before sinking into the spot. He held his arm up as you got comfortable, before wrapping it around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest. Once the two of you were situated, he raised the remote and turned the TV on, settling on an episode of Dr. Sexy, MD. 

"Really Dean?" You asked, amused, tilting your head to glance into his eyes.

He looked down at you, his green eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know you love this show as much as I do." He teased you.

You shrugged, before settling back against his chest, watching the cheesy show. Before you knew it the show was over, and nothing freaky had happened to you.

"Sammy should be almost done by now, I would think." Dean said, as you stood up stretching.

"I sure hope so." You answered, heading for the bathroom. But as the door grew closer, it turned fuzzy. Shaking your head to clear your vision, you gasped in shock when it was no longer the motel bathroom, instead the mustard yellow walls of your room at the club were in front of you.

No!" You sobbed, turning around to see you were once again fully in your old room. Glancing down, you noticed you were once again in the revealing uniform the club had made you wear. Your heart beating so fast you thought it would pop out of your chest, you backed up as far as you could before you were pressed against the wall. 

It was then you noticed you weren't alone, a figure stood in the shadowy corner of the room across from you, and you could just make out the way his arms were crossed against his chest, and the dangerous glint of his eyes.

"No, your not real. This is because of the Wraith." You kept repeating over and over, but nothing changed. 

"Sweetheart, this is no dream. And I am most assuredly real. I can show you." The man in the corner said, his voice deep and sinister. He stepped out of the shadows and made his way towards you, and you felt your breath catch.

He was tall, almost as tall as Sam. But where Sam was long and lean, this man was built, every inch of him covered in muscle. You remembered him from your time at the club. He was a Demon, who had borrowed a biker's skin, and had a thing for you. There had been many times he had paid extra, just to have some alone time with you in your room, and after he had left, you had been given multiple days off to recover.

"No, I don't do this anymore!" You yelled, trying to run past him, but his hand reached out, grasping your arm. "Please! I can't handle this again!" You plead, your fingernails scraping at his hand, but he was too strong for you, his grip too tight.

"Shut up bitch." He growled, before throwing you down on the bed, pulling off his tight black t-shirt. While the shirt was over his head, you scrambled off the bed, rushing towards the door. Pulling against the handle, you realize they had locked you in. 

The Demon, whose name was Jake, stood there, watching you with an amused smile on his face. "Are you going to keep fighting? Because I don't mind, in fact it makes it even more enjoyable for me."

Tears pouring down your face, you glance frantically around the room, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon. But the people in charge of the club searched your room everyday, making sure there were no weapons, or anything else they didn't like.

He slowly moved forward, teasing and torturing you with his slow movement, and you turned to head for you bathroom, hoping there was a lock on the door. As soon as you reached the door frame, a hand grasped your shoulder, pulling you back against a hard chest.

"Y/N, it's time to quit playing. I only paid for an hour." He whispered into your ear, before pulling you back with him. He threw you back down on the bed, before straddling your hips with his own, reaching up to grasp your shirt. 

"No!" You yelled, scratching at his face.

This time you were able to dig deeper, and soon you had blood pouring from multiple wounds on his face. "You slut, you asked for it now." He threatened, before raising his arm and bringing it down, slapping you.

Turning your head so the heated skin was pressed against the cool pillow, you became still, hoping he would hurry up and get it over with. 

"Come on sweetheart, aren't you going to fight me?" He whispered, before licking the skin below your ear. It made you shudder, and he smiled again, before moving down, before pulling a knife from his pants, using it to cut your shirt open. 

You didn't move, except for your eyes, watching the knife as it moved against your skin, wondering if there was a way you could get it out of his hands. Before you could do anything, he had moved the knife down, pressing it at the top of your jeans.

"Let's get rid of these." He told you, pressing the tip against your bare skin above your jeans. Before he could do anything else, you raised your knee, shoving it as hard as you could against his crotch, and he doubled over, dropping the knife in the process.

Fumbling across the bed, you reached for the knife, grasping it in your hand just as he was able sit up. Growling at you, he didn't notice the knife in your hand. Striding around the bed, he grabbed your arm, pulling you to him just as you moved the knife, and it slid straight into his belly. He looked down at the knife in shock, then at you, and his black eyes slowly turned to a familiar green, his tall and burly frame shortening the slightest, the muscles turning lithe, his bare chest turning into flannel.

The walls behind him turned from the mustard yellow back to the plain tan of the motel room, and you watched in shock as Dean glanced down at his belly, the knife still sticking out, before collapsing onto the floor.


	39. That Was Close

You were having a hard time distinguishing the wraith induced fear from reality, but you knew something was very wrong. That somehow in your fear, you had ended up stabbing Dean instead of the Demon who had been after you.

Frozen to the spot, you stared down at him, where he had already pulled the knife out and was pressing a hand against his belly, trying to staunch the bleeding. His face had gone pale, his lips moving, but you couldn't hear anything.

Vaguely, you felt someone pushing you out of the way, and you fell back on the bed. It was that movement that broke your trance, and you watched in horror as Sam helped Dean to his feet before forcing him to lay down on the bed next to you. 

"Y/N, place your hand here." Sam ordered, and you blindly followed it, pressing your hand hard against Dean's stomach, wincing at the groan it caused.

Sam rushed into the bathroom, returning with towels and the first aid kit. Pushing your hand to the side, he lifted Dean's shirt, taking the wet towel and gently cleaning around the wound. "What happened?" He asked as he worked.

Staring down at the white towel quickly turning red, you explained. "We were doing so good. Then I moved off the bed, and I guessed that's what caused it. I thought I was back in the club, and Dean was...And I..Oh God, please don't tell me I killed him." The last part choking off on a sob.

Sam glanced up at you quickly, before returning his gaze to his brother, who was still groaning in pain. "I'm not sure yet. The knife seemed to go in pretty deep, but it was also on the side, so I think it missed most vital organs."

You sighed, but you knew you weren't out of the woods yet. Dean had already lost a lot of blood, and stomach wounds were very tricky. Good thing he had been skinnier than the man in your dreams, because it just skimmed Dean's side, while it had gone straight in the middle of the Demon. "What do you want me to do?" 

"Pray to Cas. He has his grace back, so he should be able to heal Dean." Sam said, while he still tried to staunch the bleeding. 

Gawking at Dean's ashen face once more, you closed your eyes, praying to an Angel whom you had only met a handful of times. "Cas it's me Y/N. I know we don't talk a lot, but I would greatly appreciate it if you could help us out. Dean's hurt, and we need your help."

Opening your eyes, you waited for the sound of rustling feathers, and when it didn't come, you felt a tear trickle down your cheek.

"Did you pray to him?" Sam asked you, removing the towel from Dean. "I have most of the bleeding stopped, and I'm getting ready to do stitches, but I just would like to have his support, in case something goes wrong.

"I tried, but he hasn't responded yet." You told him, despondently. 

"Damn it." Sam said. "Get some whiskey will you?"

Knowing he was more frustrated than angry with you, you followed his directions, angry at yourself that you let the wraith get into your head that much. Grabbing the bottle of whiskey from the table, you turned and ran smack dab into a tan trench coat.

"Cas!" You exclaimed, almost dropping the bottle in your haste to hug the Angel. "You came!"

"Of course I came Y/N." He told you, gazing down at you with concern. "You never pray to me, so I knew it was something serious."

Taking his hand, you guided him to the bed where Sam was still working on Dean. Dean had passed out from the pain, which was a good thing.

"What happened?" Cas asked, taking stock of Dean's injury, rolling his sleeves up and sitting next to him.

Shuddering, the images of Dean with the knife sticking out of him flashed into your mind. "I didn't mean to, I just saw the Demon and I tried to save myself." You blurted out.

Sam was able to explain easier than you had. "She was infected by a wraith. While I was fighting it, Dean was trying to keep her safe, but she was under it's spell and attacked him."

Cas leaned forward, and placed two fingers on Dean's injury, and you watched as a bright light lit from inside, and the angry red gash soon turned to pink, then back to Dean's natural skin color, like a knife hadn't been sticking out of it moments before.

"There, that was easy enough." Cas told the both of you, standing up and fixing his sleeves. "He should sleep for another hour or two, and he might be sore."

Acting on instinct, you stood on your tiptoes and kissed the Angel's cheek, smiling at the way a slight blush rose to it. "Thank you Cas."

He smiled at you, before turning to Sam. "How is he? I know he still has the Mark on his arm."

You had almost completely forgotten about the Mark. Ever since he had been cured from being a Demon, the two of you had been so busy tiptoeing around each other that the Mark had completely slipped your mind.

"He's doing okay. A little more brooding, but I think that has to do with the two of them more than the Mark." Sam told Cas.

Cas nodded. "I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing. If it's been quiet this long, that means it might have a big blow up just waiting to happen. But I must depart." Cas said, before disappearing from the room.

Looking at Dean laying peacefully asleep on the bed, you swung around to face his brother. "Sam, do you think Cas is right?" 

Sam seized the whiskey bottle from where it still laid next to Dean, pouring a generous amount in two glasses. Handing one to you, he took a sip of the other one before answering. "I really don't know. It has been really quiet these past few days, which has surprised me. I would have thought with everything going on between the two of you something might have happened."

"What can I do to help?" You asked, taking a sip, wincing as the liquid fire slid down your throat, warming your insides. 

"Just be there for him. Be his anchor, and an ear when he needs it. I know the both of you are still working things out, but just try to be there for him." Sam told you.

You regarded Dean again, looking at him with a different light. Your relationship had been so rocky the past year, with the beginning of the mark, you running away, then him being a Demon. But nothing mattered except being there for the man you loved more than anything.

Setting the now empty glass of whiskey down, you crawled onto the bed beside him, rolling to your side, and cuddling as close as you could, placing your hand over his chest where you could feel the gentle rhythm of his heart beat. Slowly, it calmed you, and you felt your eyes drift shut.


	40. Life Goes On

The rubbing of a callused hand up and down your arm slowly awoke you, and you stretched like a kitten. 

"Good morning." A voice, rough and deep with sleep said from above, and opening your eyes you tilted your head until your e/c eyes met a pair of green ones. 

"Morning yourself." You said, cuddling closer to his chest, enjoying the feel of his body against yours. 

He moved his head down, and pressed his lips gently to yours, a sweet kiss that ended before you were ready for it to.

Sighing you moved to slide out of bed, knowing it was probably past time to start the day. You only got an inch of the way out before a hand snagged yours, pulling you back to him. "Dont go." He pleaded, and you couldn't say no. 

"Shouldn't we be getting ready to go? The hunt is done." You explained, hating the fact that you were trying to be the reasonable one when you just wanted to lay and cuddle all day.

"We have time. Sam went to go get breakfast." Dean replied before making sure you were once again tucked under his arm. The whole fiasco last night must have melted your resistance to Dean away, because right now you didn't want anything else than to be held in his arms, no flinching or pulling away.

Speaking of last night. "Dean, how are you feeling?" You asked, guilt seeping into your words. 

"Not too bad. Definitely not like the love of my life stabbed me." He teased, but it still touched a nerve. 

Your eyes filling with tears, you moved your head so you could see him. "Oh my God Dean, I feel so bad. I should have followed Sam's orders and locked myself in the bathroom. You almost died because of me! " You sobbed, the emotions from last night returning.

Dean just placed his hand on your cheek, gently trying to calm you down. "Shh Y/N. Don't kill yourself over it. I'm a hunter, I knew the risks. It's nothing to beat yourself up over."

You weren't surprised that he tried to shrug it off, but you still felt horrible. "But Dean, we had to call Cas. All because of me. Seeing you there with all that blood, your face pale. It was horrible."

"Well, I guess we're even now." Dean told you, and you stared at him shocked. "I spilt your blood, you spilt mine. Maybe this way we are even, and we can start again."

Before you could answer, Sam walked through the door, holding coffee cups and a bag full of bagels. "Hey sleepy heads. Finally awake I see."

Dean raised his arm, and you slid out of bed, welcoming the cup Sam handed you. Taking a sip, you let the warm liquid slide down, before you smiled at him. "Thanks, I really needed some coffee today."

Dean had sat up by this time, and was staring down at his shirt, where it was still ripped and stained with dried blood. "I'm thinking you need a little knife training. Your aim was a little off." He teased.

Tossing a bagel at him,  you stuck your tongue out. "Excuse me? That aim is what saved your life. But the person I thought you were was wider, so my aim was perfect. Maybe your defence skills need sharpened." You teased back, happy that your relationship with Dean was somewhat back to normal where you two could joke around. 

"So guys, while I was on my way for food, a phone rang. Turns out we have one of Bobby's old phones, and he is needed for the reading of a will." Sam explained to the both of you while you were busy munching on breakfast.

"So?  I mean Bobby was like a Dad to us, but that doesn't mean they will let us take his place." Dean argued, but you were intrigued. You hadn't had a chance to know Bobby, but the boys loved sharing stories of him. Maybe this was a way to get to learn a little more about the man who had helped raised these two. 

"True, but they said any next of kin would work, so I said we would go. There's no hunts nearby, so I figured why not." Sam said.

"Fine." Was Dean's reply, before he shoved the rest of his bagel into his mouth. 

"I'm gonna hit the shower, get ready for the day." You told them, grabbing your bag and heading for the bathroom.

Shutting the door, you started the shower, climbing under the hot spray, hurrying through the daily routine. As you stepped out and wrapped a towel around yourself you heard the hushed conversation from behind the door.

"Dean, really, how are you doing? Last night couldn't have been easy on the Mark." Sam asked, trying to keep his voice down and the conversation away from your ears. Knowing the conversation was meant to be private, you still listened in anyways, unable to resist yourself.

"I'm fine. No bloodlust, no major anger issues. I think that getting things going smoothly again with Y/N is helping it." Dean said, but you wondered if he was really being truthful. 

"Are you sure? You know you can tell me anything." Sam insisted,  but the room stayed silent, and just finished pulling on a pair of jeans and a tank top before stepping into the room.

Sam was back at the table, his laptop in front of him, while Dean was packing his bag, getting ready to hit the road.

"All done?" He asked you, giving you a mega watt smile. 

"Almost." You answered, quickly brushing your hair and throwing it into a braid. You didn't worry about anything else, after all you would be spending most of the day stuck in the car.

Stealing one of Dean's flannels out of his bag before he could zip it, you shrugged it over your shoulders, ignoring the raised eyebrow look he gave you. 

Making sure everything was back in your bag, you slapped Dean on the rear before heading out the door. "Alright slow pokes, let's get this show on the road." You threw over your shoulder, wanting to keep the energy as positive as you could make it, hoping it would keep Dean centered.


	41. Clue

"Man am I glad that is finally over and done with." You groaned as you sank down onto the mattress of the motel just outside of town, rubbing your hand across your eyes.

Dean sat down next to you, handing you a beer, and Sam sat at the table, rubbing a hand through his hair.

"I would have never thought a will reading would have turned into something like that." Dean chuckled, "A rich old lady with a hidden shifter daughter. What a crazy world."

Sam shook his head, agreeing with his brother. "And that family. Dude, they were completely crazy. I can't imagine what life is like with them 365 days a year."

Smiling, you remembered how jealous you had been, how those older woman had thrown themselves all over Sam and Dean, and how pathetic they had actually been. "Sam, I'm surprised you didn't stay behind for the night. You would have had your pick of woman." You teased, watching as he actually blushed, his jaw clenching in annoyance.

"They were like rabid dogs." He shuddered as he remembered. "I could have sworn they had at least five hands each. And speaking of that, I'm going to scrub myself raw."

Both you and Dean laughed as Sam headed to the bathroom. As soon as he was gone, you scooted back in the bed until you were lounging against the headboard. Dean followed suit, before tugging you until you were cuddled into his chest.

"How about you? They were checking you out just as much as Sam." You said, a touch of jealousy still evident in your voice.

"And I still shudder at the thought of it." He told you, shivering violently for effect. 

"I do feel bad for that girl though. Always locked up, never really knowing love, never being able to be claimed as part of the family." You said sadly.

"True, but she made her choice when she started killing people." Dean reminded you, and you nodded against his chest.

"How about you? How are you? That's the first person you've killed since you've been brought back from being a Demon." You asked, lifting your head up so you could gaze at Dean. He was sitting up straight while you had slouched down a little, and his gaze was straight ahead, on the news that was currently playing on the computer. 

Without looking down he answered. "I'm fine. It was no big deal."

"Are you sure? Because you unloaded almost a full clip into her." You reminded him, hoping you didn't upset him too much.

It was then he finally glanced down at you, his eyes remarkably clear as he made sure to catch your gaze. "I'm sure. Maybe I was a little nervous, but who wouldn't be? Like you said, it was my first kill after, and I just wanted to make sure that she was dead."

Deciding to drop it, you scooted up enough until you could place your lips against his. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you tight to his chest, before he wrapped a hand in your hair, angling your head so he could take the kiss deeper. Groaning into his mouth, you raised your hands, wrapping them around his neck. 

The heated kiss lasted for only a moment before you were pulling away, pressing your forehead against his, staying wrapped in each other's embrace. "You know I just worry about you, right?" You murmured.

"I know." He answered just as quietly. "Don't worry. I promise I will tell you if anything changes." 

By then, you heard the shower shut off, and you made a quick decision. Climbing off the bed, you were stopped by a hand on yours. "Where are you going?" Dean asked.

Tugging your hand loose, you grabbed your jacket, before pulling on his hand. "What are you doing?" He asked, but still followed your lead, grabbing his coat.

"I want pie." You told him, and watched as his face lit up.

Grabbing the keys, he yelled through the bathroom door at Sam, explaining that you were taking off. Placing his hand on your lower back, he guided you out of the room, and opened the Impala door for you. 

Within moments he found an all night diner, and the two of you slid into a booth. Smiling at Dean, you loved how giddy the two of you were being over something so simple as pie.

"Dean, they have so many flavors. I have no idea which one to order." You complained, staring at the dessert menu.

His eyes were huge as he took in all the selections, and you could have sworn he was almost drooling. "Why don't you get one kind, and I get another. Then we can share, and each try different flavors." He suggested.

Nodding your head in agreement, you gave the older waitress your order of cherry pie, while Dean ordered the apple. "Also, can you have a slice of the chocolate cream and peach pie boxed up to go?" He asked, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

"What?" He asked. "I was just thinking we should take some back in case we are hungry at midnight." He explained.

Chuckling, you glanced at the clock. "Dean it's already past midnight."

He shrugged. "Breakfast?"

The two of you sat in companionable silence while your order was being filled, just happy to be in each other's company. Soon, the waitress was placing the plates down in front of you, along with the box beside Dean.

You dug into your slice, moaning as the sweetness hit your taste buds. It was amazing, the crust was so flaky, and the filling wasn't super tangy.

Dean was enjoying his pie just as much, his eyes closed as he savored his bite. Scooping another bite onto your fork you held it out. "Dean." You said, and he opened his eyes, licking his lips at the sight in front of him. 

The two of you spent the next half an hour savoring the pie, switching between pieces, having fun feeding one another. Too soon it was over, and Dean was standing up to pay.

"I'm gonna head out." You told him, grabbing the box, and making your way outside, shivering when the cool night air hit your heated skin. The parking lot was almost empty, except for one beat up old pickup truck and the Impala.

Setting the box down on top of the Impala, you leaned back, tilting your head and closing your eyes as the cool air relaxed and calmed you. Before you knew it, a warm, callused hand was grabbing your arm, and you opened your eyes, expecting to see Dean smiling down at you.

Instead, you saw a big, burly man standing over you, the one from your nightmare.

"Jake?" You whimpered. "You can't be real? Is it the wraith again?" You asked, trying to sink into the unyielding Impala.


	42. Resolution

You could literally feel your heart trying to rip itself out of your chest as Jake tightened his hold on your arm, tight enough that you knew there would be a bruise there tomorrow. His eyes were pitch black as they stared down at you, a look of glee on his sinister face sending terror straight through your body.

"I've missed you Y/N." He said licking his lips. "In fact, when I heard you were no longer at the club, I began searching for you, planning on making you my own personal pet."

You shivered at the thought. "Why? There are so many other girls at the club, many who liked your attention." You pleaded, hoping Dean would hurry up, but you couldn't see the front of the diner.

He ran his free hand down your cheek, before pressing it tightly against your windpipe. "True, but none were you. None fought like you. And I liked that." He told you, holding you so tight that your feet were dangling off the ground. Lifting you up until your face was even with his, he pressed his lips harshly against yours, before biting your bottom lip hard enough to make it bleed. You gagged when he licked the pooling liquid off of your lip.

"I've missed that." He told you, lifting his hand from your arm to run it under your shirt, and you tried to fight, but he was pressing too hard against your neck and you felt light headed.

"Get your hands off of her." You heard Dean growl from behind you. All it did was make Jake laugh, and he turned to face Dean, you still dangling like a doll from his grasp, removing his other hand from underneath your shirt.

"Seriously? You traded me for a Winchester? And for the older one?" Jake chastised you. "I would have thought you would have had better taste."

You couldn't speak, you just gargled as black specks filled your eyes, and you knew it was only a matter of time before you lost consciousness.

Dean dropped the box of pie on the ground, pulling out the Demon killing knife from his back pocket. "I won't say it again. Get your filthy hands off of her."

Jake glanced between you and Dean, letting up on your neck just a little. He knew Dean wouldn't make a move yet, that he still had the upper hand, and it terrified you. "Oh you mean one of these hands?" Jake asked, showing Dean one of his meaty hands before placing it underneath your shirt, on your stomach. You watched as Dean visibly tensed, the move affecting him just as Jake had expected it to.

"Dean, did you know that Y/N, and I go way back?" Jake teased Dean, running his hand across your skin, and you wanted to gag at his touch. "You see, I was her favorite customer at the club. The things her and I did, well, it was the stuff of your dreams." 

Dean took a step closer, but froze when Jake's hands moved up, dangerously close to your breasts. "Would you like a demonstration Dean?" He asked, and you saw Dean's jaw clench. With Jake's attention on Dean, you were able to reach up to your neck, pulling off the necklace you always wore. On it was a small vial of holy water, just enough to distract a Demon. 

Popping the top of the vial, you dumped it over Jake's head, watching as it sizzled. Screaming in pain, Jake released you and you ran behind Dean. He checked you over briefly before rushing towards Jake, using his distraction as an advantage.

You watched as Dean lifted the knife up, bringing it down. But Jake was too quick, and he raised his arm, causing the knife to slash across it, instead of his chest. The two then circled each other, Dean was quick, but Jake was stronger, and you were worried for Dean.

Jake made the next move, rushing Dean, but he was easily able to outmaneuver the taller man. The two continued this way, each one taking a shot against the other, neither one able to get a good hit in. You felt yourself chewing on your already injured lip and you stopped, wishing there was a way you could help Dean, but you knew that you would more than likely end up in the way.

"Why are you so intent on protecting her? She's just a slut, used by all sorts of monsters." Jake teased, and Dean barreled forward with a growl. This time he hit his mark, the knife sliding deep into Jake's upper chest. Jake stared down in surprise, not expecting Dean to have gotten the upper hand on him. Pulling the knife out, Dean followed Jake, who was slowly slumping to the ground. Jake made a feeble attempt to hit Dean, but Dean was easily able to block it, and stabbed the knife back into Jake, and you watched as he flashed orange, before laying lifeless on the ground.

Moving forward, you were stopped when Dean raised the knife, stabbing Jake over and over again, and you could only watch in horror as blood started splattering everywhere. Gingerly steeping around Dean, you breathed a sigh of relief when he stopped. He looked up, and what you saw shook you to the core. Dean's face was blood splattered, but that wasn't what upset you. It was his eyes, how lifeless and dull they looked, nothing like the warm green orbs that usually glanced your way.

"Dean?" You carefully asked, knowing that when the Mark was effecting him, he was not himself, and that anything could happen. He didn't budge, but just sat there, the knife slowly slipping from his hand. Stepping closer, you sank down on your knees, ignoring the liquid that seeped into your jeans. Placing your hand carefully on his cheek, you tried again. "Dean, honey?"

This time he glanced at you, his eyes still void of life. "Dean, we need to go. "You told him, and finally he was able to shake himself out of his stupor, enough that your voice penetrated the fog surrounding his mind.

"Y/N?" He asked, unsure, vulnerability lacing his voice.

"Come on Dean. We need to go." You said again, pulling on his arm, and he followed your directions, awkwardly standing up. You guided him to the passenger side of the Impala, where he sank into the seat, his eyes slowly losing the glazed over look.

Racing back to the body, you grabbed the knife, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. Turning back, you noticed the box of pie, and you grabbed it, hoping his favorite snack would bring back your Dean.

By the time you were climbing into the driver's seat of the Impala, Dean was shaking his head, fully coming out of it. You started the car, peeling out of the parking lot.

When you returned to the motel, you saw that Sam had left a light on for you. Turning to Dean, you saw that he was already climbing out of the car. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you explained to him. "Dean, stay in the car. We need to get out of town fast. Someone probably noticed the car, and we don't need the police on our tail."

Without saying a word, Dean nodded his head, swinging his legs back into the car and slumping against the seat. Leaving the car running, you hurried to the motel room, opening the door with a bang, Sam shooting straight out of bed at the noise, a gun in his hand.

When he noticed it was you, he dropped it, before running a hand across his face. Turning on the light next to him, his eyebrows rose in shock. You knew you must look a fright, the beginning of bruises on your neck and arm, your knees stained with blood.

"What the hell happened? Where's Dean?" He asked, climbing out of bed.

"Dean's in the car. There was an incident." You said. "But Sam, we need to go. Now."

Sam didn't need to be told twice. He quickly changed into jeans and a flannel, before grabbing everything he could, shoving it into a bag. Within moments the entire motel room was clean, and the two of you were rushing back to the Impala, where you tossed Sam the keys. He gave Dean a worried look, but didn't say anything. Tucking his long body into the driver's seat of the Impala, he waited for you to hop in, before driving off, turning the Impala towards the bunker.


	43. Distance

The drive to the bunker was silent, each of you lost in your own thoughts, each worrying over what had just transpired. Dean held onto the box of pie as if it was a life raft, his glassy eyes staring straight ahead. 

Sam kept glancing at his brother, chewing on his lip as he gave you worried glances through the rear view mirror. You sat there, picking at a loose thread on your shirt, trying to remain calm even though you were quivering on the inside.

So much had just happened that you were still trying to process it all. First you had been worried about Dean with the hunt. Then the two of you had had a sweet time at the diner, which was so rudely interrupted by Jake.

Just the thought of Jake brought mixed feelings. The man had caused you so much torment and pain that you couldn't help but be relieved that he was now dead. With his death it seemed like a part of your life was over, and you would now be able to push it to the farthest corner of your mind, never to let it control you again.

However, you would take it all back if it meant Dean hadn't of fed the Mark. Watching how the Mark had taken over, and turned Dean into a killing machine was horrifying. What was even worse was afterwards, when he turned into a shell of the great man he was, and it broke your heart.

The sun was starting to rise when Sam finally pulled the Impala into the bunker's garage. The three of you were exhausted, the sudden road trip leaving no time for sleep after a grueling hunt. All you wished for was a nice long sleep in your familiar and comfortable bed. 

Groaning as you stood up, you grabbed your bag, and Dean's, turning to see Dean hadn't moved from the car. Sam was already out, and was staring at his brother with concern, before giving you a questioning look.

You nodded your head to the hallway, letting him know you had his brother. He gave you a smile before heading off, and you stared at Dean, wondering what type of fight you might have in front of you.

"Dean, we're home. Let's go to bed." You tried, and he looked at you, his eyes full of guilt over what he just did. But he did stand, and like a puppy, he followed you down the hallway, where you paused in front of his door. Opening it, you stood to the side so he could step in first. He did, taking his bag from you, blocking the door.

"Dean?" You questioned. 

He finally spoke, and the words surprised you. "Y/N, go to bed. I just need to be alone right now." He told you, before gently shutting the door in your face. It took you a moment before your brain comprehended the fact that he had locked you out.

Taking the five steps to your room, you tossed your bag on the floor before knocking on Sam's door.

Sam opened the door, already dressed in his sleep pants and a plain t-shirt. "Can I come in?" You asked, and Sam stepped back, his silent acknowledgment. 

Standing in the room, you began to fidget with your hair, unsure about your next step.

"Please sit." Sam told you, pointing to the edge of the bed. You sat down gingerly, your body a little sore from the fight earlier. 

"Dean?" Sam asked, pulling a chair over so he was sitting across from you.

"Locked in his room. Alone." You said, a little hurt that Dean had pushed you away.

Sam nodded, as if it made perfect sense. "Of course. He likes to handle things like this by himself."

The two of you sat quietly for a moment, Sam waiting for you to speak up, not wanting to push you. "Sam, what happened back there, I'm sorry it ended the way it did, but I'm also relieved." You finally told him.

He reached over, grabbing one of your hands in his, offering you support. "What do you mean?"

So you told him, about the diner, and the pie, then being surprised by Jake. You left nothing out, and Sam listened, not interrupting at all, just giving you a chance to talk about it. 

"So the Mark took over?" Sam asked, trying to confirm what he had just heard.

You nodded. "And in a way I'm glad. Because that basted hurt me, and other women, and I needed him to pay. I just hate that it turned Dean into a mindless killing machine. All because of me."

Sam shook his head. "It wasn't all because of you. He was bound to snap eventually, I'm just glad it was on some dick that deserved it."

You looked up at him, emotion clouding your eyes. "But now what? He turned me out, what if he blames me for what happened? We were just getting good again. I don't think I can handle any more discord between us." You cried.

Sam wrapped you in a gigantic hug, and you were grateful you had such a wonderful friend to deal with everything together. "He won't blame you, I can promise you that. He just needs some time to come back down, and feel normal again."

You nodded, before standing up and making your way to the door. "Are you sure you're alright Y/N? He left some pretty nasty bruises on you." Sam asked.

"I'll be fine, I'm just sore. See you in the morning. And Sam, thank you, for everything." You told him, pausing at the threshold. 

"Of course. You're like a sister to me." He told you, the words bringing a smile to your face.

Slipping into your room, you grabbed one of Dean's old shirts from your drawer, before undressing and pulling it over your head. Turning the light off, you slid into your cold and empty bed, already missing the comfort and heat Dean brought. 

Cuddling into a ball, you tried not to think about what had happened. Instead you turned your thoughts to what you could do tomorrow, because there was no way you were going to let Dean ride this out on his own.


	44. Confusion

You had not slept well. Considering what had just transpired, and the fact that you hadn't slept in over 36 hours, you would have thought you would have slept like a log. But it was the opposite, you tossed and turned all night, pulling the covers up, throwing them off, never finding a comfortable position. 

Giving up, you glanced at your alarm clock, noting that it was already 11 in the morning. Usually you were never in bed this late, but after not arriving home until four in the morning, it didn't surprise you. Sighing, you threw the covers off, grabbing a pair of sweat pants and a long sleeved t-shirt, needing to feel comfortable today. As you pulled off your sleep shirt, you winced as the movement stretched your arm. Glancing down you noticed a bruise, already a deep purple and blue, in the shape of a hand print on your arm.

Groaning, you knew your neck would look much worse. At least that's the worse that had happened. If Dean hadn't of come along when he had, Jake probably would have transported you to who knows where. You wondered how Dean was doing this morning, if he was still alone in his room, trapped in his thoughts, or if he was still asleep.

Deciding to be nice and try to bring him brunch in bed, you left your room, heading straight for the kitchen, the rest of the bunker still quiet. Turning the corner, you stopped dead in your tracks, the sight in front of you freezing you to the spot.

Dean was in front of you, rocking his hips along to the music playing softly on the ancient radio in the corner of the room. He had a small, white apron tied around his waist, accentuating his strong shoulders and back. He was standing in front of the stove, a spatula in one hand, his other holding the handle of a pan.

"Dean?" You asked, not sure if you were hallucinating or not. Dean liked to cook, but you never expected this sight, this morning, after what had happened last night.

"Oh, hey Y/N, how did you sleep?" He asked you, before flipping a pancake, acting like it was a normal morning, one from over a year ago. He hadn't cooked breakfast for you since, well, since he had received the Mark.

Grabbing a cup of coffee, you sipped on it, watching him for a moment before answering. "Like crap."

Pouring batter into the pan, Dean wiped his hands before turning to you. "Did you have another nightmare?" He asked you, his eyes darkening as he took in the bruises on your neck.

Shaking your head, you breathed in the heavenly aroma of the coffee. "No, I just could stay asleep. I think I was still too in shock, and full of adrenaline from what happened last night." You said, watching as his shoulders stiffened a moment before he turned back to the pancakes. He didn't reply to your comment, so you knew he was just putting on a facade, trying to act as if everything was normal.

Hopping onto the counter next to him, you took another sip of coffee. "Thank you Dean." You told him, as he flipped the next pancake over.

Putting the spatula down, he faced you, placing one palm on your knee, and you couldn't control the quiver that ran through your body from his touch. "For what?" He asked.

"For saving me. That was Jake, one of the monsters who frequented that club, one of my main visitors, and the main character in my nightmare. Because of you, that part of my life feels final, and resolved."

"That jerk?" Dean asked, his pancake forgotten. "I mean he had insinuated something, but I just figured...I didn't realize, if I had, he wouldn't have died so quick, I would have brought him back to the dungeon here. Dying was too good for a dick like him." Dean said, almost growling, tightening his hold on your leg until you couldn't take it anymore.

"Dean." You said, but he was so lost in his blood lust that he didn't hear at first. "Dean, he's dead. You killed him, so it's over now."

He let go of your hand then, turning to flip the blackened pancake. "I'm so sorry you had to go through what you did. And that you saw that display last night." He said, the last words coming out so quietly you almost didn't hear them.

Grabbing a slice of bacon from the warming plate, you bit into it before continuing the conversation. "About that Dean, it was the Mark, wasn't it?"

Turning the burner off, Dean handed you a plate loaded with bacon and pancakes, before getting the syrup down from the cabinet. "Yeah, it was the Mark. It feeds off of killing, and I guess all the blood and adrenaline last night brought it out."

You nodded. "But afterwards, it took you a long time to snap out of your haze. It really worried me." You told him before taking a bite of the fluffy pancakes.

He sat down next to you, his plate full. "That happens. It gets me so worked up, so caught in it's craze, that I have a hard time bringing myself down from it."

"Is that why you wanted to be alone last night?" You asked, your battered emotions from being left behind, making the words a little sharper than you meant to.

He noticed, and grabbed your hand, holding it tightly in his own. "I thought it was for the best. I wasn't in my right mind, and I wasn't sure how you felt about the whole thing. I couldn't handle it if you stared at me with pity, or disgust. Not you. So I thought it was better to lock myself away, and shut you out, then take the chance that I might see that." He admitted, and your heart broke.

Squeezing his hand, you answered him. "Dean, I would never look at you with disgust. Well unless you shoved an entire pie in your mouth. But don't you get it? I love you, and that means we work together, even through things like this. I would rather be by your side, helping you, than to be locked out. Because that hurt." You replied.

"Thank you." He said simply, as Sam stumbled through the door, the both of you chuckling at Sam's bed head before silently turning back to your breakfast, the awkwardness of last night now put in the past.


	45. Left Alone

It was later that day that Sam received a phone call from an old friend of his and Dean's. The three of you were lounging about the library, getting up the gumption to look for another case. Sam was looking through old files of the Men of Letter's, while you and Dean sat watching funny video's on the laptop.

Sam picked his phone up, staring at the screen for a moment, before his lips curled in a smile. While he answered it, you quickly pressed the volume button, not wanting it to get in the way of Sam's conversation.

"Hey Jody." He answered, and you noticed Dean's accompanying smile.

"Jody?" You mouthed, vaguely remembering hearing the name. and Dean nodded, mouthing the word later.

Sam placed the phone on speakerphone, letting Dean join the conversation. You listened in, staying quiet, as Jody talked about a sheriff's retreat up north, and the fact that there were some questionable murders taking place.

"Want us to head up there?" Sam asked but Jody shook him off.

"Nah, I'll keep an eye out. I've got it covered for now." She answered. "I just have this blonde haired sheriff thinking she's helping me out. Kind of annoying." She moaned before hanging up.

It was only seconds later, before Dean turned to Sam. "I know she said she's got this, but why don't we take a trip up there, double check. It wouldn't hurt."

"She said she had it covered." Sam argued, but Dean did something you had never seen, he gave Sam the puppy dog eye trick, and you knew Sam would fold under it. If Dean had pulled that trick on you, you would have given him anything he asked for.

"Fine." Sam muttered, before slamming the lid of the laptop shut. "We leave in fifteen."

Sam strode off, and you followed Dean to his room. "So, Jody?"

Grabbing his bag from his closet, he started packing it. "A sheriff from Sioux Falls, South Dakota. She's helped out on a couple of cases. She knew Bobby."

You nodded, before turning to grab your own duffel bag, getting ready to go. "Y/N." Dean stopped you.

"Yeah Dean," You answered, too busy thinking about what to pack so you weren't paying much attention to what he was saying.

"I want you to stay behind on this case." Dean told you, and it took a moment to register in your mind.

"What? Why? You asked, dumbfounded.

"It's just, after the last hunt, I thought you might like some time to yourself. And I was kinda hoping to spend some time with Sammy. We haven't had much of a chance to catch up since, you know." He told you, his words coming out fast as he tried to explain.

You kind of understood where he was coming from, but you were still a little hurt from it. "Well, I guess if that's what you want." You muttered, your shoulders drooping.

"Sweetheart, it's not that I don't want you with me. I just figured this was a perfect brotherly bonding trip. And it's probably nothing anyways, so we should be back in a day or two. He explained.

You nodded, tears threatening to spill out. You didn't want to be alone, you wanted to be by Dean's side, but you knew that was being selfish. He needed time with his brother, and you couldn't get in the way of that.

Taking a deep breath, you turned, giving him a watery smile, before pressing your lips to his cheek. "Hey, don't cry. It will only be for a couple of days, then I will be calling you, begging you to save me from being stuck with Sam." He told you, trying to lighten up the mood.

"I know. Have fun." You told him, turning to leave, but he grabbed your wrist, pulling you to him. At first the movement caused a little terror spike, but it was soon replaced with something else as Dean slammed his lips to yours. You moaned as he threaded his fingers through your hair, angling your head, and deepening the kiss.

"Dean, ready?" You heard Sam yell, and Dean pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. 

"Don't worry, we will be back before you even missed me." He warned you, before leaving you behind in his room.

____________________________________________________________________________

The first two days you kept busy, cleaning the bunker, reading some books. It was the nights that were hard. You would lay in your bed, listening to the creaks and groans of the bunker as it settled for the night, wishing you had a pair of strong arms wrapped around you. You missed Dean, but you knew he was probably blowing off some much needed steam with his brother.

Your nightmares had started to return, never about Jake, but faceless men, men that frequented that hateful club. Every night was the same, you would slowly fall asleep in your room, only to be awoken by some sort of nightmare about that club, or Dean returning to you as a Demon. Your heart racing, you would climb out of bed, and make your way to Dean's room, where you would cuddle his pillow, letting his scent sooth you back to sleep.

It was the third day that you had grown bored. Dean had texted you, letting you know it was an actual case, and that they might be gone longer than they had planned. You sat at the table, a little depressed at the thought of being by yourself much longer.

Making up your mind, you decided to go for a walk outside. You hadn't ventured out the steel doors of the bunker by yourself, but you were tired of being cooped up, and you desperately needed fresh air. Grabbing a light flannel and your phone, you unlocked the heavy doors, and made your way outside.

Taking a deep breath of the fresh air, you shivered a little as the wind picked up. Looking between the road traveling to town, and the dense forest behind the bunker, you picked the forest, wanting to be as far away from humanity as possible.

The going was rougher than if you had picked the road. The ground was soft, full of vegetation, and you had to duck so the branches wouldn't scratch your head. But it was wonderful, the trees rustled in the wind, bringing up their woodsy smell that reminded you partly of Dean.

Stopping by a big fir tree, you took a moment to gaze in wonder at your surroundings, when you felt it. Ever since working at the club, you could always feel when someone was watching you, and that was the feeling you had right now, causing goosebumps to raise on your arms and neck.

Glancing to the left and the right, you tried to find out where it was coming from, but whoever it was was doing a great job of staying hidden. Considering running away, you decided you would be caught before you even came close to the bunker. Instead, you decided to act brave, which you did not feel like at all.

"Who's out there?" You yelled, trying to force yourself to stand your ground.

Seconds ticked by, and you wondered if you were being silly, that maybe your imagination was playing tricks on you. But when you turned, and ran into a black silk clad chest, you knew you had been right all along.

"Hello Darling. It's been a while." A familiar voice said, and you looked up, staring into the face of the King of Hell.


	46. Crowley

"Crowley what do you want? Are you missing your Demon buddy?" You asked, sarcasm covering your nervousness. You had never felt comfortable around him, and after that time with Demon Dean, you were even more unsettled around him.

He smiled down at you, and you resisted the urge to run, knowing you had no chance against the King of Hell. "Darling, why can't you realize I came to see you?"

You shook your head, not believing him. "Why?"

He reached up to brush his knuckles against your cheek, but you flinched, causing his eyes to darken. Before he could answer, your phone went off in your pocket, your ringtone a loud, classic rock song.

"Why don't you answer that?" Crowley told you, and you did, surprised that he didn't mind.

"Dean!" You answered, a little breathless, your nervousness affecting your voice.

He automatically knew something was up. "Y/N,was is it?"

"I have a visitor." You said, watching Crowley the entire time.

Crowley grabbed the phone from your hand, and you stood there, frozen as Crowley winked at you before putting it up to his ear. "Hello Squirrel."

You couldn't hear what Dean said, but he must have been yelling, because Crowley pulled the phone away from ear for a second. "Really? Is that how you are going to talk to the person currently standing with your girl?"

"Crowley, put him on speaker!" You begged, frustrated, but he just shrugged his shoulders at you. 

"Yeah, I know, if I touch her, yada yada. But Dean, you're hundreds of miles away, and I'm standing right next to her." Crowley said calmly.

You stepped forward, reaching up to grasp the phone from Crowley's hand, but with a flick of his wrist he had you trapped against a tree, unable to move. It was then he finally followed your demand, pressing the speaker phone button, holding it out in between you. "So squirrel, this is how this is going to work." He started, but you interrupted him.

"Dean!" You yelled.

"Y/N, are you okay? I don't know what Crowley thinks he's up to, but whatever it is, he won't get away with it." Dean promised.

Crowley pressed the button, shutting the speaker off, before placing it against his phone again. "See Dean, she is here, and perfectly fine, for now. But I've decided I need a new pet, and she will do perfectly. After all, she was able to handle the Demon version of you."

Whatever Dean said, it was loud enough you could hear his voice from where you were held, but you couldn't make out the words. "So Dean, if I were you, I would let her go, and move on with your life. Otherwise it won't end well, for you and for her." Crowley said, before hanging up and tossing the phone behind him, where it fell hidden in the thick foliage.

"Crowley, what the hell are you planning?" You asked, pushing against the invisible force holding you to the tree. 

He slowly sauntered over to you, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He said, before running his hand along your cheek. 

You turned your head, trying to get away from his touch. "Crowley, please, just let me go. Then you won't be on Dean's hit list." You begged.

"Here's the deal Y/N. There is no way I'm letting you go back to Dean. You can either come with me, or I can send you back to that club." He threatened, and you shivered.

"But you still haven't told me why?" You insisted.

"What if I don't have a reason, other than I've always been jealous of Dean." Crowley told you, and it wasn't what you had been expecting.

"Are you kidding me?" You asked.

His eyes darkened in anger. "Why would I be kidding about something like this?" He asked. "Don't worry, you will see the truth soon enough." He told you, before grabbing your arm.

Before you could even blink, the forest faded away, and you were soon in a stone room. "What the hell Crowley? Where am I?"

Glancing around, you noticed no windows, the entire walls made out of gray stone, some covered with tapestries depicting scenes of violence and torture. There was a huge black iron bed placed in the middle of the room, covered in a comforter of black and red. An armoire sat against the far wall, and two chairs and a fireplace finished the medieval look off.

"Hell, my dear, you're in my own personal suite in Hell." He told you, glancing around the room with pride.

"But why?" You asked again, not believing that he cared for you for a moment. 

"There are two reasons. First, I really did need a new pet, and I figured you would do quite nicely. Second, I've just found out my mother is alive and well, and I was hoping you would be able to keep her company." He told you.

"Your mother? As in your real Mom, from hundreds of years ago?" You replied, dumbfounded. 

He sighed, before sitting down in a plush arm chair in front of the non lit fireplace. "Yes, that mother. She's a witch, a powerful one, and she found me." 

You sat down next to him, knowing there was nowhere to escape just yet, so you would try to find out everything you could. Maybe it would come in handy. "And that's not a good thing?" You asked.

Conjuring up a glass full of whiskey, he offered you one, but you declined. "No, it's most assuredly not. She's evil, a horrible person, and that's something coming from the King of Hell."

"And you want me to keep her company? Why?" You still couldn't quite understand why he wanted you.

"Yes, I want you to keep an eye on her, see if she slips, or does anything weird. I don't trust her, never have." He told you, before taking a sip of his whiskey.

"And if I do this? What do I get in return? Do I get to go back?" You questioned him, your heart sinking at the look on his face.

He shook his head, a smirk on his face. "You get to live. Maybe here, or at that club. Depending on how well you do, and how I feel." 

Your heart plummeting, you knew you would have to go along, at least until you, or Dean, could figure out a way out of this mess.


	47. Meeting Rowena

Soon after your conversation with Crowley, he left you alone in the room, explaining that he was the King of Hell and he had other things to do than keep you company.

You had just laughed at him then. "Well then, why the hell did you bring me down here for in the first place?"

He looked a little taken back by your comment, before regaining his composure. "Because, I wanted you down here, with me! And, I need someone to deal with my Mother. That falls on your shoulders. Succeed, or I will send you straight back to that club!" He threatened, before slamming the heavy, wooden door behind him.

You waited a moment, before trying the doors, surprised when the easily opened. You stuck your head out, disheartened to see two Demons guarding each side. "Yes Ma'am. Can we procure anything for you?" They asked you.

"How about a phone, and a sandwich?" You asked them, surprised when they nodded. "We can get the food right away. The phone on the other hand, could be a different matter. Cell reception is horrible down here, Crowley has the only one that works."

"Can I go for a walk?" You asked, but they frowned at it.

"My liege didn't say anything about you leaving the room." The one on your left, a smaller, heavy set man replied.

"Okay." You said defeated, before shutting the door behind you, and moving back into the middle of the room. You started wandering around, wondering if Crowley had left anything inside that could be of assistance to you. 

His armoire was useless, full of identical black suits, and a couple of black silk robes. The night stands on each side of the bed held useless things such as reading materials, pens, and odds and ends of things you weren't sure you wanted to touch. The desk held more items, notes and lists of plans for Hell, a flask of brandy, and in the bottom corner, a phone.

Snatching it up, you tucked it into your shirt, as the door was open, and the Demon you began to think of as Thing 1 came through, carrying a heavy, metal tray. Placing it down on the desk, he lifted the lid off, and inside was a plate piled high with steak, mashed potatoes, vegetables, and a roll. Next to it was a glass, filled with your favorite drink. Someone had gone all out, much different that the plain sandwich you had ordered.

"Thank you." You told him, noticing his shock at the two simple words.

"No one's ever said thank you to me before." He gulped, and you smiled at him.

"Well, you were nice enough to bring me a wonderful dinner, so why wouldn't I?" 

He shook his head, backing out of the room, your niceness obviously upsetting him. "Ma'am, it's Hell. People don't act like that down here."

As soon as he was gone, you ignored the food, pulling out the phone and powering it on. You waited with baited breath as the old, flip cell phone slowly came to life, the screen flashing bright red before the welcome screen came on.

Quickly punching in Dean's phone number, you held your breath as it started to ring. One, twice, by the third ring you were giving up hope that Dean would ever answer.

"Who is this?" Dean's voice came through the line, fuzzy and hard to understand, but it was still his voice.

"Dean!" You said, not too loud, not wanting to alert your guards outside.

You weren't sure if he heard you, because the line stayed silent for a moment, the only sound the static.

"Y/N, is that really you? Where are you? What has Crowley done?" Dean's voice came through again, a little clearer this time.

"Dean, I'm in Hell, literally. Crowley brought me down here. Said something about wanting me as a pet, and to deal with his Mother." You said quickly, not knowing how much time you had before you would be interrupted.

You heard him mumbling something, but he must have been talking to Sam. "His Mom?"

"Yeah, supposedly she's a witch, and she just found him. He's says I'm to deal with her, and if I don't do a good job, then he will send me back to the club!" You told him, the thought of going back to the club scaring the hell out of you.

"Y/N, Sammy's working on a way for us to get down there. Do whatever he asks, as long as it keeps you safe. Can you keep this phone?" Dean told you.

"I can try. It was in his desk. He might look for it." You told him, before you heard the sounds of the door being opened. "Listen Dean, I've got to go. I will try to call you again. I love you." You told him, not giving him a chance to answer before you clicked the phone shut. Tucking it back in your pocket, you sat down, grasping the fork and sinking it into the potato as your next visitor came into the room.

You looked up to see a petite red haired woman enter the room, before the doors were roughly shut behind her. She gave them a disgusted look, before moving forward, her gaze landing on you. She had a pointed chin, and a prominent nose, and held herself with a regal air. She was wearing a floor length dress, a clingy black material that showed off every curve. She was beautiful, but in an evil, deadly sort of way, and you automatically felt weary around her.

She glided forward, before sitting across from you, raising an eyebrow at the fork that was held halfway between the plate and your mouth. Blushing, you realized you had been so preoccupied reading her that you had forgotten to take a bite.

"Don't stop on my account." She purred, in a thick Scottish accent. 

"You are?" You asked, before taking a bite, moaning at how good they tasted, and how hungry you actually were.

"Why, I'm Rowena of course. And you are?" You asked you, amused at your lack of manners. 

"My name's Y/N. Currently a prisoner of Crowley." You mumbled, your mouth full of steak.

She grimaced, before handing you a napkin. "Well, you are certainly fed better, and treated better than his other prisoners. I wonder why that is?" 

Just then, the door opened again, and Crowley came striding through, a big grin on his face as he took in the two of you. "Perfect. Y/N, I see you met Rowena. And Mother, I see you met Y/N." He said, and you had to look again at Rowena. She was younger and prettier than you expected his mother to be. 

"Yes, I met the somewhat lovely Y/N, who tells me she's your prisoner here. I was just wondering what your plans for her are?" Rowena asked, standing up and sliding over to her son, placing a well manicured hand on his chest.

He looked down at her, a look of distrust and hatred that you were surprised to see. "Well, Mother. A man gets lonely sometimes, and I figured it was due time to find someone to spend some quality time with. It gets lonely on the throne, and maybe having a wife will help with that."

Your mouth dropped open, no doubt grossing the other two people out with your lack of manners. But you didn't care, because you were still in shock of Crowley's announcement. He had talked about keeping you as a pet, which you hadn't understood. But marry? Why would the King of Hell want to marry you?

You could tell Rowena didn't care for the news either. Her hand on his chest tightened into a fist, and her eyes darkening in hatred.


	48. Tell Spell Does Us Part

"So, you're Fergus' new pet, hmm?" Rowena sized you up as soon as Crowley left the room again, stating he wanted you to get to know each other better.

"Fergus?" You asked confused, taking a step back as she sauntered around you, looking down at your plain jeans, t-shirt, and flannel.

"You know him as Crowley, but he was my wee little Fergus first. And as his Mother, I need to make sure you're the right choice for my son." She said sweetly, but with venom dripping from the words.

You pushed your food away, no longer hungry. "Well, you don't have to worry, because as soon as I can find a way, I'm getting out of here, back to Dean." You promised her.

You watched as she made her way back to face you, her almond shaped eyes narrowing as she took in her words. "Dean, as in the Dean Winchester?" She asked, her accent thickening in disgust. 

You raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes, that Dean. My boyfriend."

Nodding, she tapped her finger against her chin, deep in thought. "So, my son stole Dean Winchester's woman out from under him. I never would have thought he would have the bollocks to do something like that." She said, almost proudly.

"Well as soon as I can figure something out, he won't have me anymore." You reiterated. 

"I don't know about that. If he's so busy with you, then maybe he will forget he hates me." She said maliciously, and you shivered under her hateful gaze.

She walked towards the door, before glancing over her shoulder at you, and you knew that somehow you had made another enemy. "Don't worry dear. Everything will work out. Well, at least for me that is." 

She left you alone with your cold dinner, and you picked up your phone, needing to hear Dean's voice again, to comfort yourself.

This time Dean picked up on the second ring. "Y/N!"

Just hearing his voice was enough that you calmed down. "I just needed to hear your voice." You admitted.

You heard a shuffling in the background before he answered. "How is everything going? Has Crowley done anything? Cuz I swear I will..." He started, but you interrupted him.

"No, it's just. I met his Mom, and she gives me the creeps. Her name is Rowena. "

"Rowena? As in the witch Rowena? Stay as far away from her as possible, she's bad news." Dean warned you.

"That's gonna be pretty hard. Crowley wants me to keep her occupied, and she wants me to distract her son. A son that is talking marriage." You said.

"Marriage, to who?" Dean asked, confusion evident in his voice. 

"To me." You answered quietly. 

"Damn it!" Dean cussed, and you heard Sam in the background, asking what was going on.

"Well, he might be a Demon, but I'm not sure how much he could force you to marry him." Dean wondered outloud.

Sighing, you answered him. "He's already threatening to send me back to the club if I don't do what he says. I can't go back there. I would do anything not to go back there!" You told him, your voice breaking at the end of the sentence.

"Shh, sweetheart, we will find a way. I will get you out of there, before either of those things happen. I promise you." He told you, his voice firm with resolve.

I know you will try your best Dean." You answered, feeling hopeless. "But, if you don't, just know that you were the best thing to ever happen to me."

"Hey don't speak like that." He chastised you. "Keep your head up. You've had so many crap things happen to you lately, something good is bound to happen."

"I hope so." You answered him, just as the door handle started turning. "I've got to go. I love you." You told him before hanging up.

"Who were you talking to my dear?" Crowley asked as he walked in, his gaze on the paper in his hands.

Stuffing the phone in your clothes, you shrugged your shoulders. "Just myself."

His attention turned away from the paper and to you. "Well, how did meeting my Mom go? She said she absolutely loved you."

Sitting down in the arm chair, he nodded to the one across from him. Taking the hint, you sat down. "I'm not sure. She scared me a little." 

He chuckled. "Yeah that's my Mom for you. But I needed to talk to you. I was truthful about wanting to marry you. I think you would make a great Queen, and I do have feelings for you."

"Your a Demon, how can you even have feelings?" You asked, cowering into your seat as his eyes darkened. 

"Alright, maybe part of it's because you belong to Dean." He answered.

"No." You said simply your heart racing as his eyes flashed red.

"What did you just say?" He growled.

Shivering in your seat, you could do nothing but watch as Crowley jumped out of chair before leaning over you, an arm on each side of your chair, trapping you in.

"I don't care what you say. I'm Crowley, and if I say you're going to marry me, then Damn it, that's what is going to happen." He said, soft and deep.

"And if I don't?" You muttered.

"Then I will make it happen." He promised, before suddenly standing up, and moving to the door. "Gavin, bring Rowena in here. Now." He ordered.

Within minutes, thing number two was towing a red headed witch behind him. Yes, my son?" She asked.

Once the door had shut, Crowley turned to his Mom, a wicked glint to his eyes. "I need a spell."

"Of course dear. Anything for you." She said, laying her motherly devotion on thick.

"I need a spell to make Y/N want to marry me." He told her.

"Why can't you just marry her without her consent? You are a Demon after all." She explained, checking her nails as if she didn't have a care in the world.

Giving you a heated glance, he answered his Mother. "Because this way, if Dean comes to save her, she won't want to go back to him. It's perfect." 

Hearing his plan, you rushed the door, trying to pry it open, but Crowley was too fast. He grabbed your arm, twisting it until you faced him. Raising your free arm up, you started pounding against his chest. "No, you can't do this! Please! I would rather go back to the club!" You begged, but he just laughed.

"Don't worry darling. It won't hurt, and then you won't care. Easy as pie." He told you, dragging you back over to the chair, tossing you into it before conjuring up rope to wrap around your wrists.


	49. Calm

"Crowley, Dean won't let you get away with this!" You threatened, but Crowley didn't even bat an eye at your useless threat.

Instead he turned to his mom, "Do you have the ingredients to do the spell?" He asked her, and she nodded.

"Of course I do, it's in my room. I'll go get it, be right back." She promised, leaving the room.

Crowley turned to you, a smile on his face. "While we're waiting, why don't we start planning our wedding? I was thinking a small ceremony, just a couple of friends."

"It's not going to happen. Even if you spell me, Dean will find a way to save me." You spat as Rowena came back, her arms full of ingredients, and a big wooden bowl.

Crowley turned to leave you, but then he noticed the bulge in your pocket. "Well, what's that?" He asked, reaching down and pulling the phone from your pocket.

"No!" You moaned, your last way to contact Dean being taken from your grasp.

"This is my phone." He said, staring at it in wonder. "I can take one guess at who you've been calling."

Opening it, he returned to Rowena. "Start the spell. I just have some goading I need to do." He told her.

She complied, measuring ingredients and tossing them into the bowl, while Crowley turned the call to speaker.

"Y/N, what's wrong? I didn't expect to hear back from you so quickly!" Dean said from the other end of the line.

Crowley snapped his fingers, and a gag was placed over your mouth, cutting you off from speaking.

"Y/N is a little indisposed of at the moment." Crowley told Dean, smirking when he heard Dean cussing on the other end.

"Damn it Crowley, what did you do to her?" Dean practically yelled into the phone.

"She's just getting ready for our wedding. She's super excited. " Crowley teased.

"Crowley, it's almost ready." Rowena said, stirring the concoction.

"What's almost ready?" Sam asked. Dean must have put his phone on speaker.

Crowley walked over and sniffed the mixture, wrinkling his noise in disgust. "Nice of you to join the conversation Moose. You know, just your every day spell to get someone to do as you wish. Y/N wasn't being very helpful, so I figured I would take matters into my own hands. With the help of my mother of course."

"Crowley, we will find a way down there. And you're not going to like the repercussions when we do." Sam threatened, as you struggled against your ties.

Crowley dipped a small cup into the liquid, before walking over to you. "I just thought you might like to hear what happens next." 

Unable to move, you watched as the cup came closer to your mouth, your gag vanishing. "Please Crowley, no!!!" You begged, which upset Dean.

"Crowley!! I will kill you!" Dean yelled, as Crowley grasped your cheeks hard enough to bruise. Gasping from the pain, he forced the cup to your mouth, tilting your head so the vile was forced into your mouth.

"Swallow my dear. This will all be over soon." He told you, holding your face over your mouth so you had no choice but to swallow or black out. The liquid tasted vaguely of chilies, honey, and something far more exotic than anything you had ever had. 

Crowley felt you swallow, and then moved his hand away, giving you a chance to breathe. As the vile spell made it's way down your throat, you started coughing, the spell taking effect immediately. Your body started shaking uncontrollably, and you felt as if you were going to burn up from the inside out.

"Y/N!" Dean exclaimed, as he heard the torture you were going through. As soon as it started it stopped, and you felt blissfully calm, a sort of serene that you hadn't felt for a long time.

"How do you feel darling?" Crowley asked you, laying his hand on your cheek.

"Don't you dare call her darling, you dick!" Dean yelled, but Crowley pressed the phone close to your mouth.

"Y/N, please tell Squirrel here, how you feel." Crowley demanded, and you felt the urge to comply, to make him happy.

"I feel fine. Calm, happy." You stated, your voice smooth, almost monotone.

"Y/N, what did that bastard do to you?" Dean asked.

"Y/N, will you marry me?" Crowley asked you, his gaze hard on you, as he awaited your answer.

You didn't even hesitate. "Of course." You answered, your heart beat calm, happy that he smiled at your answer.

"Crowley, I don't know what you did to her, but my brother and I are going to get her back." Sam promised, but you could care less what he thought, as long as Crowley was pleased.

Crowley leaned forward, and whispered in your ear. You listened carefully, before nodding your head. Taking the phone from Crowley, you turned it off of speaker. "Dean?" You said.

"Thank god, baby girl. Are you off of speaker phone? What did he do to you?" Dean asked you.

"Dean, please listen carefully. I know we had something going on, but it's over. I'm with Crowley now, and we are getting married. So please, let me go. Don't worry about me. I'm happy." You told him, your voice never changing emotion.

"Y/N, you don't mean that!" Dean begged, his voice clogged with frustration and sadness. "Please tell me what he did to you." 

"Y/N, you are strong, you can fight whatever he did to you." Sam exclaimed.

"I don't want to fight it." You simply said, before handing the phone back to Crowley.

"See Dean. She is happy. So goodbye Squirrel, and to you Moose too." Crowley said before ending the phone call.

Rowena walked over, smiling widely. "I knew it would work. It was so easy."

"Thanks for your help Mother. You can go now." Crowley told her, dismissing her. Her smile vanished, before she stomped out the door.

Once she was gone, Crowley sat in the chair opposite you, and with a flick of his wrist the fire was going in the fireplace, a drink in his hand. Taking a sip, he offered it to you, and you took it, sipping at the strong liquid. 

"Well, my dear, when should we get married?" He asked you, taking back his crystal glass.

You shrugged your shoulders. "When do you want to get married? I will be happy with whatever makes you happy." 

His eyes seemed to light up at your answer. "How about in two days? That will give me time to set up the ceremony."

"That's fine." You replied, your own voices and concern seeming to have vanished out the window. You felt weightless, as if every care, every bad thing that had happened was gone, as if they had never been there in the first place.


	50. Wedding Planning

That night, you grabbed one of Crowley's black silk shirts, unabashedly stripping out of your jeans and t-shirt right in front of him. He sat still in the armchair, his fingers biting into the arm cushions, as you stood right before him, your body bare except for you panties and bra.

"You started to drape the smooth fabric over your shoulders, but Crowley interrupted you. "Wait, aren't  you going to be uncomfortable in that bra?" He asked, his eyes darkening.

"Yes." You replied, and without any hesitation, you undid the clasp, before sliding the straps down your shoulders, leaving your upper body completely bare. His eyes took in your body, his tongue unconsciously licking his lower lip, before he bit it.

"Alright, you can get dressed now." He told you, and you slid the shirt on, slowly doing the long row of buttons on front. The shirt hung down to mid thigh, and you had to roll the sleeves up multiple times so it wouldn't hang over your hands. "Now, go to bed. We have a busy couple of days ahead of us."

You complied without a word, pulling down the thick black and red comforter, to find red silk sheets underneath. Sliding in, you almost groaned at how well they felt against your skin. "Aren't you coming to bed Crowley?" You asked, almost pouting. 

"No, my darling. I don't need to sleep. And I don't want to share a bed with you until after our wedding day. I might be a Demon, but I am still old fashioned." You nodded, wanting whatever made him happy.

The next day and a half went quickly, and eventfully. You had awoken the next morning, finding yourself alone, with only a note and a black rose for company. It had simply stated to stay in the room, that a dressmaker would be arriving shortly. 

Crowley was true to his word, and soon you were in one of Crowley's robes, going through stacks of patterns, trying to pick out your favorite one.

"I'm thinking white might not be the way to go." The dressmaker hinted, a shy, middle aged woman with huge glasses perched upon her pointed nose. "Since you are marrying the King of Hell, white might give the wrong message."

You had nodded, wanting to make sure your dress pleased Crowley. "How about Silver? With maybe red thread travelling throughout?"

The dress maker nodded her head. "That will be perfect, my lady." She then continued to show you patterns, and finally you found one that caught your fancy. It was almost like a corset up top, tight, and strapless, but then the skirt flowed, spreading out. Not as wide as a princess dress, but still majestic enough for the future Queen of Hell.

After your decision, she poked and prodded you, getting your measurements, while you stood there, shivering. Soon it was done, and you were left alone again, but not for long. Soon came in Rowena, her arms full of papers and pamphlets. 

"Hello Y/N. My soon to be daughter in law. Fergus decided I could come help with some of the wedding planning. Is that okay?" She asked you, dropping everything on the table beside you.

"Of course. Whatever Crowley wants." You answered.

"Well then." She started, picking up the first pamphlet, "We need to figure out who is invited, and what type of food we should have."

The two of you huddled together for the next couple of hours, her giving you suggestions, you automatically agreeing because she hinted at what Crowley would like best. By dinner time, you had the menu planned, the flowers ordered, and the guest list arranged.

"I know it's all sudden. How is all of this going to get done, by tomorrow?" You asked, worried that it wouldn't, and that Crowley would be upset with you. Tears started pooling in your eyes at the thought, and you wanted, no needed to punish yourself for not being good enough for him.

As you raised the knife they had brought with dinner, Rowena stopped your hand. "Now deary, what do you think you're doing?" She asked you, with a slight smile on her face.

"It will be my fault if this isn't perfect. And Crowley will be upset. And I can't handle it if he gets upset. I need to punish myself." You told her, still clutching the knife tight in your hand. 

It was then Crowley decided to join you, and he froze at the sight in front of him. "What in the bollocks is going on here?"

Rowena spoke first. "She is upset that everything might not get done for the wedding tomorrow. She's afraid you will be unhappy with her, so she wants to punish herself."

"Y/N, stop it. I'm not unhappy. About anything." He ordered you, and you automatically dropped the knife.

The next day was your wedding day, and you woke to find Crowley seated in one of the chairs, his gaze on your sleeping form. 

"Morning." You said, yawning. 

He stood up then, crossing the room to you, smiling down at you. "And how are you feeling this morning?" He asked you.

"Fine, wonderful I guess. It is my wedding day after all." You answered him.

"True. And I have a surprise for you." He told you, before pulling out a long, thin box that had been in his pocket. Opening it, you gasped at the rubies that lined a thick silver chain.

"Crowley, it's gorgeous!" You whisper, in awe.

"I was hoping you would wear it tonight, with your dress." He told you, and you nodded, running your fingers gently along the smooth stones. 

"Oh, and that's not the only thing. My guards found these two buffoons making their way into hell today." He told you, and with a snap of his fingers, his double doors opened, and in walked thing one and thing two. There arms were full of struggling, men. One was tall, with shaggy hair, the other one shoter, with spiked hair. He glanced up at you, and for a moment you forgot who you were as his green eyes met yours, darkening as he took in your lack of clothing. That all faded when Crowley spoke, and you turned to gaze upon him with adoration. 

"Moose, squirrel, I'm surprised you actually figured out how to make it down here. And in plenty of time for the wedding too."

"Y/N." Dean said as his eyes never left yours. 

"Hello Dean." You answered, as if you were greeting an acquaintance, not someone you had loved.

"Darling, why don't you tell them what's happening today." Crowley urged, placing his hand on your lower back. You leaned into the touch, your eyes closing for a second, missing the look of utter betrayal and disgust that crossed Deans face.

"Yes dear. You see, Crowley and I are getting married today, tonight actually." You told them.

"Y/N, you don't have to do this! Fight it!" Dean yelled as he struggled against the tight hold the Demon had on him.

"Alright, that's enough. I just wanted to show Y/N we have these two buffoons in our grasp. And to show them how sweet Y/N here does exactly as I say. Now kiss me." He ordered, and you stepped up on your tip toes, pressing your lips to his, ignoring the yelling and cussing that was coming from behind you as Sam and Dean were dragged from the room, ignoring the feeling in your gut that something wasn't quite right.


	51. What's Love Got to Do With It

After Sam and Dean were pulled from the room,  you stepped back from Crowley, noticing his disapproval at your movement.

Your heart dropping into your stomach you explained yourself. "Our wedding is in a couple of hours. You need to go so I can get ready."

He nodded, his displeasure evaporating. "Fine. I will see you soon. I can't wait."

Once he left, you collapsed on the side of the bed, your head pounding. You had been fine, perfectly excited to marry Crowley but seeing Dean again had done something to you. 

You knew that you and Dean used to have a thing, but you were with Crowley now, you were happy with Crowley. But something didn't seem right, as if somehow you were being pushed, or forced into this marriage.

Shaking it off as prewedding nerves, you made your way into the opulent bathroom, full of black marble counter tops and shiny charcoal cabinets, it was dark but fit the King of Hell. Turning the faucet of the deep jacuzzi tub, you dumped some bubble bath in, before stepping out of your panties, and unbuttoning Crowley's shirt. You wanted to pamper yourself for a little bit, until it was time to get ready for your wedding.

Once the water had cooled, you stepped out, sliding on one of Crowley's robes, just as there was a knock on the door. "Yes?" You asked.

The dressmaker stuck her head inside. "I'm here with your dress. And I brought someone for hair and make up with me." She told you, stepping into the room. You watched as she was followed by the guards, their arms full of fabric, then behind them, a man and a woman. Thing one hung your dress up on the outside of the closest, before retreating.

"This is Gertrude, and Harvey." The dressmaker, you had forgotten her name, told you. "Gertrude used to do make up for the stars, before her ten years were up, and Harvey was the best hair dresser in New York."

You nodded, impressed, as they fussed about you, pushing you down into the chair at the desk. "My, you have beautiful hair, I can't wait to get my hands on it." Harvey told you, running his hand along his pencil thin mustache. Gertrude, a plump, blonde lady was busy setting our her traveling case of make up. They soon both got to work, bumping into each other as they battled for space. Your were poked and prodded, your hair pulled and curled, and you sat there demurely, watching and waiting. 

The dressmaker was in the corner, putting finishing touches on the steel colored fabric that was your dress. Soon, they deemed you to be breath taking, and you were handed a mirror. Your hair was piled up high, soft and silky. Small curls floated around your face. Your makeup was simple, natural for the most part. Thanking them, you stood up, and moved over to where the dressmaker stood.

"Good, you're done. Now I need to slip this over your head, and do any last minute adjustments. Also, I brought you these." She told you, handing you a black strapless bra, matching silk panties, garters, and knee high black stockings. Taking them from her, you changed into the bathroom, before coming out, not bothering with the robe. She smiled in approval, before having Harvey and Gertrude help settle the heavy fabric over your head, being careful to not upset your hair.

Once it had settled down, she stepped behind you, tightening the strings of the corset. At first you hardly felt anything, but then she kept pulling and pulling, and you had to grab onto the door of the closet, feeling faint of breath. Finally she stopped, but you could  hardly take a deep breath. "Isn't it too tight?" You asked, but she shook her head.

"Don't you want to look your best for Crowley?" She asked you, and you nodded, deciding a little pain would be worth it. Biting her lip, she circled around you, tucking and pinning the fabric, until she deemed your perfect.

She then handed you a pair of black kitten heels, and you slipped them on, before she slipped a black veil over your head. "Perfect." She declared you. Knocking on the door, she told the guards that you were ready. Thing one came into the room, taking your arm, and guiding you out into the hallway. It was your first time out of the room, and you stared in awe at the long, stone hallway, covered in medieval tapestries and pictures of former rulers and great Demons.

Thing one turned left, down a short hallway, where you heard the sounds of struggle behind a heavy wooden door. "Dean?" You said, tilting your head.

He must have heard you, because the pounding on the door stopped. "Y/N? Is that you?" He asked, his  voice muffled a bit by the door.

"Yes Dean. I'm leaving now. To get married." You told him.

"No Y/N, you can't do that!" He pleaded, as Thing one started pulling on your arm. You resisted a moment, needing to stay near Dean, for at least another moment.

"I'm sorry Dean, but I need to make Crowley happy. And to make him happy I need to marry him." You explained. "I will miss you Dean. But as soon as we are married, maybe I can talk Crowley into letting you go."

You started walking again, your heart missing a beat at the anguished cry from behind you. Thing one pulled on you, and you moved faster, down the hallway, to two heavy wooden doors, their middle a beautiful stained glass window. "Go in." He ordered, opening the door, and you took a step in, noticing the rows of chairs full of people that you didn't know, except for Rowena in the front. The only people you knew were prisoners. Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the room, arranged for the special day. Crowley stood at the front of the room, his dark suit shining in the candle light. The room had candles everywhere, black and silver pillars, the only light in the windowless room. 

Another man, in a regular blue suit stood behind Crowley, gulping nervously as he glanced around the room. Crowley turned to him, mumbling something, and the man's face turned pale, before nodding nervously.

Taking another step into the room, Crowley turned to face you, a giant smile on his face. An organ sounded off to the side of the room, playing a dark and gloomy version of the wedding song. Heads turned, as they looked upon you for the first time, some whispering behind their hands. Seeing Crowley's smile, your steps became a little faster, and soon, you were standing beside him.

"Start." Crowley growled at the priest, causing the old man to gulp. 

"We are here today to join these two in matrimony. I would say holy, but we all know that is not true." He started, chuckling nervously at his statement.

He moved along, and you lost interest, your mind wandering, as you stared into Crowley's chocolate eyes. Then, the priest started asking questions, and you started to answer, when there was a disturbance out the door.

"Damn it." Crowley muttered under his breath, before turning to the priest. "Hurry up." 

The priest nodded, "Do you Y/N, take Crowley to be..." He started, but a giant thud against the door had everyone's attention turning around, instead of the ceremony up front. 

"Guards!" Crowley shouted, holding your hand so you would stay at the front of the room. Four Demons raced to the door, just as they were pulled open, and a bloody and sweaty Sam and Dean stood there, a knife in each hand as they took in the scene in front of them.

"Are we too early?" Dean joked, earning a glare from his brother. You watched in fascination as they slashed their way through, each Demon flashing Orange as they were stabbed with the knives. Crowley turned to the priest, forcing you to stand with him. "Finish it, now!" He ordered, before turning to you. "Y/N, say I do."

You nodded. "I do."

The priest continued. "And do you Crowley, take Y/N.." But before he could continue, an arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you backwards.

"Crowley!" You yelled, struggling, even though Dean was whispering assurances into your ear. Tilting your head, you noticed that most of the guests had left, and the guards were laying Dead on the floor. Sam had Crowley, a knife pressed to his neck, while the priest had fainted. Rowena sat there, a conniving smile on her face.

"Dean, stop. I need to marry Crowley!" You begged, fighting to go back to him.

"Y/N, no, fight this!" He told you, while moving backwards.

Crowley made no move, the knife digging into his chest. "She's spelled. And I don't know if there's a cure, or if it will ever wear off. So if you take her now, you could be killing her. Or she will just run back to me."

"We will take the chance." Dean said. "Sammy, let's go."

Sam pulled Crowley with him, you guessed as insurance. Struggling against Dean, he grew frustrated and tossed you over his shoulder. The two men, with their hostages, hurried down one hallway, turning into another. "So, you found out about the hidden passageway between hell and Earth. I'm proud of you." Crowley said, a thin line of blood trickling down from where the knife was pressed, his hands trapped in a pair of anti Demon handcuffs.

Dean slid you down, so he was only grasping your hand, and you watched as pushed a floor length picture to the side, showing a staircase. You were so interested in the hidden passageway that you didn't even try to escape.

Dean noticed, and gave you a small smile. He grasped your hand tighter before getting ready to drag you into the small opening. 

"Don't worry. This is far from over." Crowley threatened, and you glanced back, wondering if Sam was going to kill him.

"Yes it is Crowley. I told my brother not to kill you, that we would just get Y/N back, and leave you to run hell. But if you come near her again, I won't hold him back. You will die." Sam threatened, before removing the knife and pushing Crowley to the side. Sam ducked in behind you, pulling the picture shut, before Dean pulled on your arm, trying to get you to move.

"No Dean, I can't. I need to go back. Crowley is unhappy. I can't have Crowley unhappy!" You pleaded, trying to find a way around Sam, but he filled the entire space, and you started beating against his chest.

"No, please, I can't leave Crowley!" You sobbed, as Dean grabbed you, throwing you over his shoulder again, before turning to leave Hell behind.


	52. Withdrawal

The road trip back to the bunker was horrible. You were trapped in the backseat with Dean, as Sam drove the car, crying and sobbing into his chest, your cries turning into hitting as your frustration set in.

"Crowley's going to kill me." You sobbed, before you turned away and tried to pull the car door open while Sam was speeding down the highway.

"Y/N damn it, you're going to kill yourself!" Dean cussed, pulling you away from the door. 

"That's better than living without Crowley." You sobbed, collapsing against the seat.

"Sam, what the hell are we going to do?" Dean asked, frustration clearly evident in his voice.

Sam glanced back through the rear view mirror. "Dean, I'm not sure. You heard Crowley. It could never wear off, or she could die. We might be in over our heads." 

"That's not what I wanted to hear." Dean growled, as your crying quieted, and you slowly fell to sleep.

The next time you woke, was to feel a pair of strong arms around you, gently picking you up. "Crowley?" You asked, sleepily, feeling the arms tighten beneath you.

"Shh, go back to sleep." A deep voice sounded, not Crowley's but still calming at the same time. You listened, closing your eyes and tilting your head until it rested on his warm chest. In a state between awake and asleep, you felt yourself being lowered onto a bed, frowning when the sheets were scratchy and stiff, not the silk sheets you had spent the last two nights in.

"Y/N." The deep voice said as you snuggled further under the covers. "Please fight this. You've fought so much, stayed strong through so many things that would have killed anyone else. I know you can fight this, and I will be there, every step of the way to help you."

Nodding your head, you fell asleep once again, exhausted.

The next morning, you woke to the smell of bacon and coffee. Your stomach grumbling, you sat up, realizing you were just dressed in a t-shirt that hung to your thighs, and you were no longer in Crowley's stone chamber. You were back in your room, in the bunker. Your wedding dress lay in heap on the floor, your heels long gone. Standing up on wobbly legs, you made your way into your bathroom, gasping at the sight before you. Your once perfect updo was now a giant rats nest, your mascara had run, making you look like a gothic clown. You looked horrible, and felt even worse. 

Turning the shower on, you stepped under the spray, washing away the make up and the hair spray from your botched wedding. You still needed Crowley, and you felt the pull to run to him, but it wasn't as bad as it was last night.

Stepping out of the shower, you wrapped a fluffy white towel around your body, another one in your hair, as you headed back to your room, changing into a pair of ripped knee jeans, and one of Dean's old band t-shirts that you had borrowed, but had never given back.

Placing your hair in a quick bun, you left your room, and made your way to the kitchen, not surprised to find both brothers there. Giving you a wide shoulder, they watched as you silently poured yourself a cup of coffee and made yourself a plate of bacon and eggs before sitting across from them.

"So Y/N..." Dean started, biting his lip as he tried to start a conversation.

"Dean, I don't want to talk about it." You said, trying to end the conversation.

He persisted though. "I know, but I just want to know how the spell is going. Do you still feel affected?" He asked.

You nodded, before taking another sip. "Yes, not as bad as yesterday, but I'm constantly fighting an urge to run from the bunker, and try to make my way back to him. Even if that involves making a crossroads deal."

"Well, what's stopping you?" Sam asked, topping off your coffee cup.

Digging into your bacon, it was a minute before you could answer. "I don't know. Maybe it's being so far away, or maybe its from being back in the bunker. Maybe all the wards are dampening it."

Sam nodded at that suggestion. "I bet that is what it is. So we just need to keep you in here, until we can figure something out. Or it wears itself out."

"Fun." You mumbled, but truthfully you didn't mind. You wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed, and sleep for the next week or so.

Sam dropped his plate into the sink, before dusting his hands and facing you and his brother. "Well, I'm off on a supply run. Need anything Y/N?"

"Yeah, chocolate please." You asked, before finishing your breakfast. "I think I'm going to go back to bed. I have a killer headache."

Before you could leave the table, Dean was grabbing your hand. "Y/N wait. I just..about yesterday...I know..."He said, stumbling through the words, never making a complete sentence.

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. "Dean, don't worry about me. I will get over it, I always do. But please, don't ask. Not right now, while I'm still reeling from the effects."

He nodded, dropping his hand, his eyes cast down. "I get it. But remember, I'm here, if you need to talk."

Standing up, you dropped your plate in the sink, ready to leave the room when Dean's phone rang. "What did Sammy forget?" Dean said out loud, before answering it.

You watched as his entire body tensed up, and his eyes darkened, and before he even said a word you knew who it was. "Crowley, what do you want now?" Dean asked, barely holding back his hatred.

You could just make out Crowley's voice on the other end of the line, but it was enough to mess with your head, reminding you that you weren't free of the spell, that you still needed to be with Crowley, and that you had displeased him by being kidnapped. As Dean growled at Crowley, telling him to leave you alone, you headed back to the counter, your mind repeating the fact that you had failed Crowley over and over again. Grabbing the nearest knife, you turned to Dean, who wasn't paying you any attention.

"Dean, tell Crowley I'm sorry I disappointed him." You said, his eyes flashing up to yours in horror as he saw the knife hovering over your body.

"Y/N, no!" Dean yelled, dropping the phone just as you swung the knife down.


	53. Transfer

"Y/N, I don't get it. Is this a new game to play? Because it doesn't look like much fun." Castiel said, his voice coming from right beside your ear, as his hand held yours, tight enough that you dropped the knife that was making it's way towards your belly.

Dean had hung up on Crowley, and was rushing to your side, just in time to see Cas appear and save you from yourself. "Y/N, why the hell would you pull a stunt like that?" He asked, before taking you from Cas and crushing you in a hug.

"Because I disappointed Crowley. Hearing his voice on the line made me realize that, and I had to punish myself." Yousobbed, forgetting yourself for a moment as you leaned into his touch, letting him comfort you.

"Dean, Y/N, I seemed to have missed something. Why is Y/N trying to kill herself because of Crowley?" Cas asked, breaking the two of you apart.

Dean glanced at you, making sure you weren't going to grab anymore sharp instruments, deciding to pull you over and have you sit down at the table for security. Cas followed behind, sitting down across from the two of you.

After the phone call had ended with Crowley, the sudden urge to punish yourself was gone, and now all you felt was a deep, bone aching urge to leave, and find him. 

"You didn't call him for help?" You asked, trying to distract yourself from the urge to run.

Dean shook his head. "No, I knew he was busy dealing with his own personal issues, I didn't want to bug him more than necessary."

"So, what happened. Why does it feel as Y/N isn't fully herself?" Cas pushed.

Dean grabbed your hand, partly for comfort, but also to make sure you stayed. "Sam and I had gone on a hunt, to help Jody. While we were gone, Crowley was able to get his hands on Y/N, and he took her to hell with him. Then he decided he wanted her as his wife, and had his mother, Rowena, cast a spell on her, that made her Crowley's pet. She needs to please him, to do anything for him, and if she doesn't she gets the urge to punish herself." Dean summarized. 

"Well she's back now, why isn't the spell gone?" Cas asked, staring at you.

"Well, we forced her to leave, kidnapping her from her wedding. The spell seemed to fade once she was here, but hearing Crowley's voice must have sparked it again. He warned that either it would never go away, or she would die from it."

Cas nodded, understanding the story. "It must have been a very powerful witch to have cast such a spell. May I?" Cas asked, standing up and rolling his sleeve up.

You jumped as he came closer. "What are you going to do?" 

"Just look into your brain, see if I can fix this." He said, and without further warning, he pressed his finger to your temple. You saw a bright light, then a pressure in your head, but it didn't hurt, it just felt uncomfortable. It was gone within a second, and Cas was stepping back. "I was right. It was a very powerful witch that caused this, an evil one. And if Y/N isn't near Crowley soon, she could very well die."

"Damn it." Dean cussed. "What do we do now?" 

Cas studied you for a moment. "Well, at least the wards around the bunker have tampered it down. I could try, to transfer the curse. If I do that, maybe it will wear off, but at least it won't be with Crowley."

"Transfer? To who?" You asked, not liking this plan, your brain telling you to run, back to safety, back to Crowley, while your heart told you this was the best plan out there. Dean stayed silent, his hand tense on yours.

"I think the answer would be obvious. You love Dean, at least you used to. He loves you. We transfer the curse to him, and maybe the love the two of you share will counteract it, making it disappear." He explained.

"And if we do this. What does it involve." Dean asked, giving you a glance to see how you were handling this. From his reaction, you probably weren't handling this as well as you had hoped.

"It involves the two of you touching, while I dig deep into Y/N's being, trying to find the curse. Then the link between you will help as I try to pass it to you Dean." Cas explained.

"No." You said quietly, your eyes downcast as they both glanced at you in surprise.

"What?" Dean asked, "Is this the spell talking?" 

"I don't want this. I want to leave, to go back to Crowley. To have my wedding that was so rudely interrupted, and to forget every bad thing that has ever happened. Down there in hell, those memories were gone, and I'm afraid once this spell is transferred they will come back. So no thank you." You said, before trying to wrestle your arm away from Dean's grasp.

His eyes were full of sadness, staring right into your soul. "I'm sorry Y/N. I wish you didn't have to relive those memories, but it's more important that you are no longer tied to Crowley." He told you, before pulling you with him. you struggled, but his hold on you was too tight, and in the end you gave up, walking behind him as he led you and Cas down the hallway, stopping in front of his room.

"Cas, will this work? I was thinking we could lay on my bed, holding hands." Dean said, and Cas nodded. 

"That will work perfectly." He agreed, just as the front door opened. Seconds later, you saw Sam, his arms full of bags, heading towards the kitchen. "Hey Sam, can you please give me a hand?"

Sam turned, surprised to hear Castiel's voice. "Of course, let me just set these down."

While they waited for Sam, Dean pulled you into his room, before gently pushing on you until you gave in and laid on the bed, turning on your side, away from him, tears forming in your eyes. Dean sat down next to you, his hand brushing hair away from your face. "I know you think you don't want this, but it's just the curse talking. Once we get it transferred, you will feel better, I promise you that."

"I just want to go back to Crowley." You sobbed, missing the way that Dean's body tensed up again at the mention of the Demon.

Sam came in then, a intrigued look on his face. "So what's up guys?"

"Cas said he can transfer the curse. So we are going to try it." Dean explained, laying down and grasping your hand so you couldn't run away.

"Really? I didn't think that was possible." Sam said, as he moved into the room.

"I'm not sure, but we are going to try. I want you in here, in case I need someone to hold them down." Cas told Sam, who nodded.

You were slowly scooting towards the edge of the bed, trying to sneak away while everyone's attention was on Cas, but Dean noticed, and he pulled you closer to him, wrapping you in his arm. Cas came forward, placing a hand on you first, and it was nowhere like the first time. It didn't hurt, but it burned, as if something was being brandished from your very being. You moaned, thrashing about as it continued, the burning feeling growing, until Cas pressed his hand to Dean, and the heat transferred, and suddenly you were cold, incredibly so.

Your body shivering, you turned to Dean, whose body seemed on fire. Your eyes closed, you cuddled as deep as you could, ignoring the fact that his body was thrashing about. Suddenly it all stopped, and you slipped into a deep slumber.


	54. Dependent

Slowly coming to, you felt heavy and warm. You laid there, your eyes closed, as you thought back to the last thing you remembered. There was the memory of the knife in your hand, and Castiel showing up, saying he could transfer the curse. The curse, you remembered it, how it had made you want nothing more than to make Crowley happy. You tried to think about Crowley, to see if you were still obsessing over him, but he didn't draw the slightest bit of interest from you.

Stretching, you slowly blinked your eyes open, realizing you were wrapped in a cocoon of Dean. Sometime during the time you had both been passed out, Dean had rolled over, and wrapped himself tightly around you, pulling you to his chest. Your legs were tangled with his, and the blanket had been pushed to your feet.

His head was resting on yours, and he was still sound asleep. You wished you could stay that way with him all day, but your bladder was telling you something different. Groaning, you began the hard task of detangling yourself from his grasp. He moaned, and reached for you, but you were already sliding off the bed.

As you made your way to the bathroom, his voice stopped you. "Y/N, where are you going?" 

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw he had propped himself up, and was staring at you with sleepy puppy dog eyes. "Dean, I have to use the bathroom."

He nodded, "Well, hurry up and come back. I miss you." 

Shaking your head at his silliness, you did your business, deciding to brush your teeth while you were at it. When you returned, you watched with concern as he exhaled a deep breath, his eyes glazed over with worry. "Dean, what's a matter?" You asked, concerned.

"You were gone too long, I was beginning to worry." He told you, holding his arm out, expecting you to slide into bed with him again.

Instead, you explained to him. "I'm gonna go see if Cas is still here. I'm not sure what he did last night, but something feels off." 

He nodded, before hopping out of bed. "Well, I'm coming with you." The two of you were still dressed in yesterday's clothes, so neither of you decided to change. Instead, you made your way down the hallway, your hand firmly grasped in Dean's, his choice, not yours.

Cas was still there, he was sitting at the table with Sam, who was busy tapping away at his laptop. Heading straight over to the coffee pot, you poured you and Dean a cup of coffee. Handing it to him, you were surprised when he heartily thanked you for it.

"Sure." You muttered, before turning to Cas.

"Y/N, how do you feel this morning?" He asked you, his blue eyes squinting as he took you in.

"I don't know. I mean, I don't really feel a connection to Crowley anymore, I could care less about him." You started.

Sam looked up then, a bright smile on his face. "Well, that's a good thing, right?"

You nodded, before moving to sit down across from him, Dean following in your footsteps. "True, but something feels off still. And I'm not sure exactly what it is." You told them, tilting your head towards Dean, trying to give them a subtle hint. You didn't want to exactly come out and say that Dean was acting weird, it might hurt his feelings.

You were actually surprised when Cas understood what you were trying to say. "Hmm, something does seem different. May I?" He asked, placing a hand on each of your foreheads.

You didn't feel anything, but you just sat there as he conducted his research, but when he pulled back he wasn't smiling. "What is it Cas?" You asked, but he shook his head, before glancing down at Dean.

Sam got the hint. "Dean, why don't you go hop in the shower, or something? I think I might have found us a hunt nearby." He told Dean, but Dean just glanced at you.

"It's alright Dean. I will be right here. You go ahead." You told him, and he reluctantly got out of the chair, and made his way out of the room, acting sort of like a kicked puppy.

As soon as he was gone, you turned to Cas. "What the hell is going on? As soon as I woke up, he was like this. Never wanting to leave me alone, being clingy."

Cas nodded, a frown on his face. "I think last night, when we tried to transfer the curse so you were obsessed with Dean instead of Crowley, it back fired. And now Dean is obsessed over you."

Sam laughed at that, and you both looked at him. "Well, he's always been obsessed with Y/N. What is the difference?"

Cas sighed. "Well, this time, I think he will not want to do anything without her permission, or be out of her sight. It seems that when it was transferred, it amped up that part of the spell. I'm sorry."

You rubbed your hand against your forehead, feeling a huge headache starting. "So now what?"

"We wait. I think since you two are in constant contact anyways, and in love, the spell's duration will be short. It wasn't meant for an actual couple." He explained.

You sat down, gulping down the rest of your coffee in a single shot. "So, now I just have to deal with an obsessive, possessive Dean. Should be fun." You moaned, just as you heard your name being yelled from down the hall.

"Alright, I gotta go. I don't want him harming himself. But Cas, if this lasts longer than a week, I'm taking it out on you." You threatened, before leaving the kitchen, and making your way to Dean's room, where he stood in the middle of it.

"Dean, what's wrong?" You asked, glancing around to find out why he screamed your name.

He smiled sheepishly at you. "I missed you. Why didn't you come back with me?"

Running your fingers through your hair, you answered him. "Because I needed to talk to Cas. Why aren't you in the shower yet?"

He looked down, a little embarrassed at himself. "Because it didn't feel right. Not having you here with me. I need you here with me." 

"Alright, big boy. Let's get you in the shower." You told him, watching as a big smile crossed his face. You hoped that Cas was right, and the spell would wear off soon. You loved Dean, but this dependent, winy Dean was going to be tough to handle.


	55. A Night at The Bar

"Dean, I'm just going to take a shower, I'll be out in a minute." You told him as he stood there, staring at you with sad, puppy dog eyes. 

"Can't I join you?" He asked. "It's too lonely out here."

That's how the past two days had gone. Dean wouldn't leave your side, unless it was trips to the bathroom, but he still stood out the door, waiting for the moment you were done. At first it hadn't been too bad, you loved all the attention Dean was showering you with. But you knew this wasn't the real Dean, that he wouldn't be this dependent, and you grew to wishing he would back off. Even just a little bit. 

"Dean, why don't you go help Sam with some research." You said, even though you couldn't believe yourself. Here was Dean, begging to get naked and wet with you, and you were pushing him away. But you really needed some time to yourself.

"Fine." He answered, leaving the room and you behind. Another thing about this curse, he would always do as you asked. It was nice at first, but then you started to miss your arguments with your green eyed hunter. 

Hopping into the shower, you scrubbed your body clean, singing along to the song in your head, enjoying your time alone.

Stepping out, you screamed when a hand reached out and handed you a towel. "Damn it Dean, you scared the crap out of me!" You scolded him, as you wrapped the towel around your body.

"Sorry." He said, his eyes downcast as he realized he had upset you. "I just came to tell you Sam found a case."

"Alright, I'll be out in a minute." You told him, using your hand to chase him out the room. Once he had left, you got dressed quickly, choosing a pair of black jeans and a black t-shirt, throwing on a maroon and black flannel. 

Tossing your hair into a messy bun, you grabbed your boots before heading out to the library where Sam sat with his face buried in his laptop, and Dean sitting across from him. 

Upon Seeing you, Dean's face lit up in a smile and he grabbed your wrist, pulling on you until you plopped down in his lap. "Dean!" You laughed, as Sam just shook his head. 

"So, I found this case where four people have died, all their bodies turning into mush." Small explained, ignoring his brother who was currently running his hand up and down your arm. 

"Didn't you guys hunt something like that before? With Charlie?" You asked as shivers ran through your body at Dean's touch.

"Yeah, it was a Djinn that fed on fear." Dean whispered into your ear before he leaned down and placed a kiss on your neck. 

"Dean, we're working on a case here." You chastised him, but you were secretly enjoying it.

"I was thinking since it's only a couple of hours from here, we would leave in the morning." Sam suggested, and you nodded. 

"Sounds great to me. Now what to do tonight?" You asked, as Dean continued to press soft kisses to your neck.

Sam stood up, stretching his long frame. "Well, I don't know about you, but I could really use a drink. Maybe we could hit a bar tonight." 

You agreed with Sam, a couple of drinks sounded amazing. "Fine, let me go change, and then we can go." You started to stand up, but Dean grasped your hand, pulling you back down into his lap.

"Don't leave me." He pleaded with you, placing his forehead against your back, as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Dean." You sighed. "I'm going to go change, then we are going to the bar. And if you want, we can dance there."

He perked up at that news. "Sounds good to me." He said, finally letting you go.

You made your way into your room, opening your closet. Deciding to stay with your black jeans, you switched your shirt for a light blue one that showed a little more skin. Grabbing your leather coat, you returned to the hallway, just as Dean did. He had just changed his shirt, into your favorite red and blue plaid one.

He offered you his hand, and you accepted, meeting Sam at the Impala. Dean picked the bar, a relatively new one, and you could tell it was popular by the amount of cars parked around the industrial looking building.

Dean placed his hand on your lower back, guiding you into the packed room. There were people of every variety, college students, middle aged folks, and bikers. You name it, everyone was here, and they were busy sitting at the bar, dancing on the crowded dance floor, or playing on the multitude of pool tables.

Sam scored a booth towards the back, and Dean went up to order the first round. "Wow, this place is crazy!" You yelled over the music blaring.

Sam just nodded, as Dean came back with the first round of beer, along with shots of whiskey. "Maybe I should have picked somewhere a little less crowded." He whispered into your ear as passed you your shot.

Quickly downing it, you started on your beer, as you enjoyed watching all the people in front of you. "Dean, why don't you go hustle some pool." You suggested, wanting Dean to do something for himself for a change.

He downed his beer, before signaling for another round. "But I don't want to leave you." He protested.

Sam had left by this time, heading over to the bar where a couple of pretty college girls were staring at him and giggling. You wished him luck. "Dean, I will be fine. I'm just going to sit here, and wait for the next round. Then, when you are done, we will dance."

Your compromise worked, he scooted out of the booth and made his way to where some college students were starting a game. Breathing a sigh of relief, you were glad to be alone. The waitress brought the other round over, and you sipped on your beer as you watched Sam lead a pretty brunette to a secluded table. Dean was acting drunk,  and the college students were buying it.

"Hey pretty lady." You heard from the side of the booth, and you glanced up to see a tall, handsome college student staring down at you.

You just nodded, not wanting to give him the wrong idea, but either he was clueless or didn't take no for an answer, because he slid into the seat across from you. "What's a pretty girl doing alone in a busy bar like this?"

"I'm not alone." You said simply, glancing to see that Dean was still involved in his pool game, and you could no longer see Sam.

He leaned forward, and you could smell the cheap whiskey on his breath. "Well, whoever you were with left you, so why not hang out with me. I'm a nice guy."

You leaned back to try to get away from him. "Listen, what's your name?"

He started grinning, as if he had won. "The name's Luke. What's yours sweetheart?"

"Y/N. Listen Luke, if you value your pretty face, I would walk away. Because when my boyfriend sees you, and he will, he is not going to be happy. And he get's scary when he's mad." You tried to make him listen.

He grasped your hand, pulling you closer to him, and you almost gagged as his breath hit you square in the face. "I'm not scared of no redneck. Now how about we get out of here and have a little fun." He told you, pulling your arm, trying to get you to follow him out of the bar.

"Get your hands off of her." Dean growled, as he stood at the edge of the booth. "Now, before you make me really mad."

You looked up, noticing Dean's eyes were almost black with rage. Luke must have noticed the same thing, because he automatically released your hand, scooting out of the bench, falling on his butt in his haste to get away from Dean. You were about ready to scoot into the corner of  the booth, Dean was that scary.

Luke bounded to his feet, running through the crowd, and Dean started to follow him. Grabbing his hand, you stopped him. "Dean, it's okay. He did nothing." You told him, before pulling him into the seat next to you.

"It's just hard. Between this stupid curse, and the Mark, I'm really torn right now. I want to follow after him and rip him to shreds. But I also want to stay here, as close to you as possible." He moaned, holding his head in his hands.

You placed your hands on his cheeks, making him look at you. "Dean, look at me. Stay with me. We will figure this out, all of this. But right now, I was thinking a dance was in order."

He smiled at you, and you about melted, but then he held his hand out and you took it, letting him pull you onto the dance floor as a slow song started playing.


	56. Hunting A Djinn

An arm tightened around your waist, pulling you to a warm and sturdy chest. You snuggled into it, pressing your cheek as close as possible, feeling a slight chuckle rattle in his chest.

"Good morning." He whispered, his voice rough with sleep.

You peered up at him, your smile growing as he moved the hair away from your face. "Good morning yourself." You mumbled, in a good mood after last night. "We should probably get up." You muttered, knowing there was a case waiting for the three of you.

You started to move, but he tightened his grasp, making you squeal in surprise. "Dean!" 

He just shrugged. "What? Last night was amazing, I'm just not ready to get out of bed yet."

You poked him in the chest, laughing as you remembered the rest of the evening at the bar. "I never would have thought I would have the chance to see you dance like that." You told him, snorting as you remembered how a drunk Dean had wiggled his hips on the dance floor, just for your benefit.

"I did what?" He asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief, letting you know he remembered. 

"Hey, lazy butts, get them out of bed, we have a hunt to go on!" Sam yelled through the door, and you were finally able to disentangle yourself from Dean's embrace. You looked at Dean, who was still laying there on his back, using an arm as a pillow, pulling his plain white t-shirt taunt over his chest. His chin was covered in stubble, and you had to fight the urge to crawl back in, and forget about the hunt.

"Why don't you start packing. I'll go get us coffee." You told him, shrugging on your jeans and t-shirt, forcing yourself to move.

He nodded, finally sliding out of bed, standing there in his t-shirt and boxer briefs. "Hurry up and come back." He told you.

Leaving the room, you went straight for the kitchen, where you knew Sam would be. He was sitting at the table, a bowl of cereal in front of him. Grabbing two cups of coffee, you started pouring them, before turning to Sam.

"Are you sure going on a hunt is a good thing right now?" You asked him, worried for Dean, but he just shrugged.

"Why not? He's still Dean, and this hunt falls into our territory. I think we should try it." He explained to you.

"Fine, but if someone gets hurt because he's too preoccupied with me, then I'm taking it out on you." You threatened. Dean was always watching out for you on hunts, but this was different. Would he be able to separate himself long enough to get the job done? You thought to yourself as you brought the coffee back to Dean's room.

Soon, the three of you were travelling along the highway, Sam in the backseat for once. You had started to slide in your usual spot, but Dean had begged you to sit up front with him, and rather than start a fight, Sam changed spots with you. You were pretty sure Sam didn't mind, because the moment the Impala hit the road, he was sprawled in the backseat, snoring softly.

Throughout the drive, Dean kept taking his hand off the steering wheel, running his fingers along the back of your hand, or intertwining your fingers together. At one point, he pulled on your hand until you gave in, and scooted over to him, where he raised his arm, and let you slide in so you could lean against his chest. You fell asleep then, enjoying the safety of Dean's arm for the rest of the road trip.

The stopping of the Impala woke you up, and you realized that Dean had already pulled into the motel's parking lot. Sam was gone, already on his way to book a room, and you and Dean started gathering your bags from the back.

"Dean, are you sure you will be okay for this hunt?" You asked him, still nervous about it.

He seemed hurt that you were even questioning it. "Of course I will be fine. Just because I can't keep my hands off of you doesn't mean I can't do my job."

"Of course. I'm sorry, I just don't want anything to happen to you." You apologized, just as Sam came back. Dean seemed okay with your answer because he pulled you tight to his side as you walked towards the room.

"So, let's throw our stuff into the room, then head on out. I've already figured out where they're hiding, so it should be a pretty quick hunt." Sam explained.

"Already? That means no FBI gear!" You said, celebrating. You had always hated dressing up as FBI agents, afraid that someone would realize you were just pretending.

"Yeah, they are living down by the river, in the old water plant." Sam told you as the three of you tossed your bags onto the beds. The room was better than some of the other ones you had stayed at, with nice navy and tan comforters on the bed, and nature pictures lining the tan walls. At least it was clean, and didn't smell too musty or dirty.

Dean started ruffling through one of the bags, pulling out a silver knife for each of you, while Sam grabbed a paper bag. You looked at it in question, and he pulled out a bottle full of blood.

"Haven't you ever hunted a Djinn before?" He asked you, and you shook your head no. "Well, to kill a Djinn, they need to be stabbed with a knife dipped in lambs blood."

"Poor lamb." You muttered, taking the knife from Dean. 

Soon, the three of you were back on the road, traveling past town, to where a big, abandoned metal building lay rotting next to the river.

"How are we supposed to get in there? And then find them?" You asked, taking in the six foot high fence surrounding the place, and the tall building, that had to be at least three stories high.

Dean reached into the trunk, and pulled out a huge pair of metal cutting pliers. "This will work. And I bet they are on the ground floor. Shouldn't be too hard."

You nodded, your nerves making your body tense. It wasn't as if you hadn't been on hunts before, but this one just had an unsettling feeling to it, and you didn't like it.

You followed behind Sam and Dean as they walked the fence, looking for an easy way in. Dean found it about ten steps down, a gate where the chain holding it closed had already been cut. "Guess we don't need these." He said, tossing them behind him, before grabbing your hand. 

Squeezing through the opening, you stayed close to Dean as the three of you made your way to the metal door on the side. It was unlocked, and you winced as it squeaked as Sam opened it. In front of you was a long corridor, empty rooms on each side. Making sure your knives were covered in blood, the three of you started moving, knives at the ready as you came to each room. 

When each one was empty, you kept on moving, coming to another hallway. Dean pointed at Sam, pointing left, while he pointed to you, then him. He wanted you to split up, but of course he wanted you with him. Sam nodded, before taking off. Dean went to grab your hand, but you shook your head. You wanted both of your hands to be free, in case you were jumped.

Your hallway opened up into a vast room, full of huge water barrels and transfer machinery. You stayed to the edge as you walked around, looking for any sort of movement. You had almost given up hope when you saw two bodies, hanging from the bar overhead. 

"Dean." You whispered, pointing over to them. He noticed them, and you started to rush over, when a voice stopped you in your tracks.

"I wasn't expecting dinner to just fall into my lap. How perfect is this?" The person behind you said, and you slowly turned, to find a man standing right behind you.


	57. Back Again

"Y/N, get behind me." Dean said very softly, motioning for you to move. But you couldn't, you were frozen by the man in front of you, with the strangely glowing eyes.

"Y/N!" Dean said again, still softly, but with more force, and you started to move to his side, but the Djinn was fast, and before you could be near the safety of Dean, he had reached out and grasped your arm, pulling you to him with surprising strength.

You stiffened as the Djinn held you close to his body, leaning down to sniff behind your ear. "Yes, you will do quite nicely." He said, just as Sam came barreling through the door. He stopped when he looked at the scene in front of him, Dean standing there, while you were trapped. Dean had his hands clinched, his eyes trained on you as he tried to find a way to help you.  

"More visitors? Who knew I would be so popular." He teased, pulling you back with him.

"Just let her go." Dean pleaded, as Sam slowly came closer.

You felt the Djinn shake his head. "I don't think so. I can already smell the fear on her, I think she will taste even better." He said, and you shivered. You didn't want to become Djinn food.

"Don't you dare." Dean threatened, taking a step forward, showing the knife. But it was too late, you noticed the blue light shining from the side of your face, as the Djinn moved his hand to place it on your arm. You realized you were still holding your knife, and you raised it up, and pushed it behind you, hearing the disgusting sound of it finding it's home. 

"Oh sweetheart, there is nothing to save you now." He warned you, and you looked down to see his blue handprint firmly etched onto your skin. He released you and stepped backwards, floundering to the ground, dead.

You stood there in shock, staring down at your arm, where the blue hand print stood out against your pale skin. "Dean?" You said, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. "Dean, what do I do?"

 

He had dropped his knife by this time, and was rushing over to you, just in time to catch you in his arms as you collapsed on the floor. "Y/N, don't worry. Maybe since he's dead, it won't take hold of you." He said, looking up to Sam for confirmation.

Sam just shrugged, his face contrite, as he wasn't sure what to do.

Dean turned back to you, placing his hand on your cheek. "Don't you worry, I won't let anything happen to you. Even if you do get sucked into the Djinn's dreamland, I will find a way in, and I will save you."

You smiled at him, but you could already feel the pull of the hand print, and your eyes slowly started closing. "No Y/N, fight this." Dean begged, but you couldn't, it was too late, and you gave him a small smile before your eyes closed and you knew no more.

_____________________________________________________________

Waking up, you glanced around, wondering how Sam and Dean had gotten you out of the dream so fast. "Dean?" You called, but no one answered, and you watched as the darkness slowly faded away, turning into something you had never hoped to see again.

You were once again in the mustard yellow walls of your room back at the club. Your heart beating furiously, you looked around, noticing nothing had changed. There was still the clock above the door, your closet that held identical items of the same uniform. A wooden door that led into your small bathroom, where you would no doubt find all your makeup, and the pills they made you take to keep up your stamina and health. 

Your bed was rumpled, either from sleep last night, or something you didnt, and couldn't think about. You blinked back tears. "This can't be real. I left this place. This has to be part of a dream." You repeated to yourself, but when you glanced down you noticed you were in the extremely small, and revealing uniform.

A knock sounded on the door, and a burly man's voice followed after it. "Y/N, it's time for your shift. Hurry up or the boss lady will not be happy."

You stayed where you were, fear and utter denial holding you to the spot. "No." You whispered.

He must have heard you, because you heard a sigh from the other side of the door, before the door handle started turning. At the club, no door was to be locked, no matter what. It opened, and a man stepped in, as tall as Sam, but much broader, full of muscle. He was wearing tight jeans, and a tight black t-shirt, that with one wrong move would rip in half.

"No, this is a dream. This is not real." You whispered, and he stared at you.

"What did you take? The bossy lady is not going to be happy." He told you, grabbing your arm, and forcing you down the long, gray hall towards the door you remembered too well.

"Please, no. I can't go back out there!" You begged, but he didn't listen, instead he opened the door, and pushed you out.

It was as busy as you remembered, every table full of customers, the dance floor full of writhing bodies. You stood there, pale and shaking, until you were given a push from behind. "Standing here won't make any money. You will run the drinks tonight." 

You nodded, knowing there was no way you could get out of the job. But you were grateful it was drinks night, and not dance floor night. 

Grabbing an apron, it was scary how well you fell back into the routine, how easy it was to remember drink combinations, which hands to avoid, who gave the bigger tip.

You were so busy that at first you didn't notice the hush that went over the crowd. But when you turned to serve a drink, you were met with a pair of familiar green eyes.

"Dean?" You breathed, relieved that he was there to rescue you.

"Yep, it's me sweetheart. Now let's get you back to your room so you can get out of here." He told you, and you started to remove your apron, but when you glanced up, you froze. Because Deans eyes were no longer the comforting green. They had turned black.


	58. Snap Out of It

You blinked your eyes, wondering if you were seeing things. You knew Dean was longer a Demon, but no matter how hard you wished it, his eyes stayed black, and it terrified you.

You pressed your back against the bar, trying to get away.

"Y/N? What's a matter?" He asked you, taking a step closer, his hand out in front of him as if he was reaching for you.

"You're a Demon!" You stuttered, just as the bouncer came forward.

"Is there anything wrong?" He asked Dean, glaring at you. This bouncer had never cared for you, and made sure to send the most notorious clients your way.

"I was just trying to get some alone time with her." Dean explained, and the bouncer grabbed you by the arm.

"You know the deal Y/N, never refuse a client. Now get!" He growled in your ear, squeezing your arm hard enough to bruise it.

Shuddering, you knew you had no choice, unless you wanted to be punished. So you crossed the bar and made your way to Dean, who stood there staring at you with his black eyes.

"Y/N, I'm not here to hurt you." He told you, but he still placed his hand on your back to guide you back to your room, and you felt your body stiffen up at the touch.

"For some reason I don't believe you. You're a Demon." You said, watching as your room got closer and closer.

He didn't say anything, but kept steering you down the hallway. Upon entering your room, you jumped away from his touch, running to the far side of the bed.

"I don't know why I'm back here, and you're a Demon again, but please leave me alone!" You begged, frantically searching your room for any sort of weapon. But you had nothing, and it wouldn't have mattered if you did, because Dean would be hard to kill.

"Y/N, you're in the nightmare from the Djinn. I need you to face your fear so I can get you out of here before you die."

"And a Demon is going to help with that?" You asked, backing up as he took a step closer.

"Damn it Y/N, I'm not a Demon, it's the stupid dream!" He yelled at you, and you flinched. Taking another step back, you moaned when your back hit the wall, and you realized you were trapped.

"Please, don't hurt me again." You sobbed, remembering all the torture Demon Dean had put your through.

Your eyes started flooding with tears, as your worst fear was once again in front of you, and you were trapped. Dean took this as his opportunity, reaching forward and grabbing your wrists in his hands.

"Y/N, you need to listen to me, I'm not here to hurt you. But I need you to fight me so I can get you out of here." He told you, and you stared up at him absolutely defeated.

"What can I do?" You finally asked.

"Well from the sounds of it, this club, and Demon Dean are your worst fears. I need you to fight your fear of me." He explained, but you still aren't sure what to do.

"I'm not sure." You mumbled.

He thought for a moment. "Well, Demon Dean usually had the upper hand, what if you take control?" 

You heard his words, but you still weren't sure you were brave enough to do it. You understood now that this all was part of the Djinn nightmare, but having to face your fear?

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, and Dean stayed still, watching you. Raising your hand, you cupped his cheek, ignoring the way your stomach churned at the sight of the black eyes in front of you.

If Dean had moved, you were sure you would have turned into a quivering mess, but he stayed still, and you were able to stand up on your tiptoes, where you placed your lips against his. Softly at first, but then you wrapped your arms around his back, pulling him tighter to you. He stayed still, letting you call all of the shots. Running your hands through his hair, you angled your head, nipping at his bottom lip, and just as he started to moan, everything went black.

"Y/N, come on sweetheart, wake up." You heard Dean's voice saying close to your ear.

"Mmm, too tired Dean. Five more minutes." You muttered, trying to turn to find a more comfortable position.

You felt him lightly slap your cheek. "sweetheart, show me those beautiful eyes, then I will let you go back to sleep. I promise." He insisted.

Sighing, you knew he wouldn't give up until he got what he wanted. Slowly opening your eyes, you squinted at the bright light shining through the window of the Impala.

"Dean, why am I in the Impala?" You asked trying to sit up, but Dean's hand on your shoulder stopped you.

"Woah, take it easy." He warned you. "We needed to get out of the factory."

You nodded, your head aching. "The Djinn? And the victims?" You asked, leaning back into Dean's chest.

"He's dead, thanks to you. And both victims are okay, we called the police to come pick them up." Sam told you from the drivers seat. It was then you noticed the car was moving down the highway, away from town.

"Our stuff at the motel?" You asked, attempting to sit up again. This time Dean didn't stop you, but he helped brace you until your back was against the seat. It was then you got a good look at Dean, who had a nice shiner on his jaw. "And what happened to you?"

He rubbed his cheek, wincing at how sore it was. "Sam grabbed our stuff. And I had to find a way to get unconscious, Sam helped with that."

You nodded, when understanding dawned. "It was really you in my dream then? Not a figure of my imagination?"

He squirmed in his seat, a little uncomfortable with your question. "Yeah, it was me."

"So, you saw everything?" You asked.

You watched him as he looked out the window, and you worried. "I did."

Before you could try to move the conversation along, Sam was pulling into the bunker's garage. "Home sweet home." He joked, trying to ease a little of the tension that was currently filling the Impala. Dean climbed out, leaving you and Sam behind to stare after him.

"What happened in your dream?" Sam asked you, while taking all of the bags. You were busy trying to get your legs back in working order.

Sighing you answered him. "I was back at the club, and when I saw Dean, he was a Demon, and I might have freaked out over that."

Sam didn't judge, or say anything. He just patted you on the back before moving on. You followed behind, heading up to the library, where Dean was already seated, a glass of whiskey in one hand, a bottle in the other.

"Dean, can we talk?" You asked him.

He poured a glass, taking a sip before turning to you. "What's there to talk about? The fact that no matter how hard I try I'm still your worst nightmare?"


	59. Enough

Your mouth was wide open as you stared at Dean in shock. Without saying a word, you strode over to him, grabbing the bottle out of his hand, taking a long sip.

He watched curiously, waiting for you to turn and run. But he had another thing coming for him. You were done with this game, tired of something happening to cause the two of you to tip toe around each other. So much had happened, but even with the stupid curse, things had gotten better.

"You're a jerk, you know that right?" You said, seeing his eyes widen in surprise. 

"What?" He asked.

Pushing a finger into his chest, you continued on, exhaustion and annoyance fueling you. "I can't believe you. You take something like that, and turn it into another chance to prove why we shouldn't be together. Well, I have news for you, that nightmare didn't mean shit."

He grabbed your hand, stopping your finger from creating a bruise in his chest. "I've never said we can't be together. But I was the one to see your terror, your hatred and utter fear of me. How can I live with myself, knowing I caused you to feel that way. And that you still feel that way." He explained. 

Stomping your foot, you took another swig of whiskey, using it as liquid courage. "Why don't you see, it's not you I'm terrified of. It was Demon Dean! And the stupid Djinn fed off of it!"

Dean shrugged. "What's the difference?"

"There's a huge difference!" You huffed. "Demon Dean is a separate entity. He's not you. You would never do those things to me!"

"Well I don't see it that way." He said calmly, taking a sip of his whiskey, and you wanted to scream.

Well, I'm sorry for that. Because things were going great again, not just because of that freaking curse, but because we were comfortable around each other again. And I'm sorry you can't see how good a  person you are. Because Mark, or no Mark, you are still one of the best people I know. But I can't do this right now. I'm tired, exhausted. I feel as if I could fall over with the slightest push. Please tell me things will be better in the morning." You told him, making your way on wobbly legs to your bedroom, not sure Dean would want to share his tonight.

You had almost made it to the steps, when your legs buckled, too tired to hold you up anymore, and you started to fall. Bracing yourself for the sudden, jarring impact, you were surprised when strong arms wrapped around you, keeping you from hurting yourself. Tilting your head up, you saw Dean peering down at you, an unreadable expression on his face. 

"Thank you." You told him quietly, but he didn't speak. He picked you up, bridal style, carrying you down the hallway, past your room, to his.

Pushing on the door with his shoulder, he carefully placed you on the bed, before turning and grabbing one of his t-shirts. He handed it to you, then turned to leave the room again.

"Dean?" You called after him, but he just left, shutting the door behind him. Huffing, you undressed, your movements sloppy due to your exhaustion, but soon you were dressed in his t-shirt. Crawling up the bed, you slid under the covers.

But no matter how exhausted you were, you couldn't fall asleep. You tossed and turned, getting tangled in the sheets,  your mind still too worked up over the nightmare, and your conversation with Dean. You wished that you had been quicker, had gotten away from the Djinn before he had laid a hand on you. It was all because of that stupid nightmare. Now Dean was probably hating himself all over again for it, remembering all his past nightmares, and your relationship was back on a rocky ledge. 

Sighing, you felt stupid tears start to gather in your eyes at how useless everything seemed. No matter how hard you fought, or what you went through, there was always something else in the way. Your relationship with Dean had never been easy, but you were both hunters and you expected that. But what you didn't expect was for him to give up this easily.

You were about ready to climb out of bed and talk to him again, but you decided, maybe both of you needed a night to yourself, to calm down, and remember that you were a team, and that nothing should be able to come between the two of you.

So instead, you cuddled against his pillow, letting his familiar scent comfort you, and you finally fell asleep, hoping that tomorrow you could once again work things out with Dean.

\--------------

You were cold. That's what you first realized when you woke up, your normal body heater not in bed with you. Feeling over to the side, you knew he had never made it to bed, at least not this bed. Rubbing your hand across your face, you wondered if you even wanted to get out of bed today, if you were ready for the argument that was surely to happen once you met up with Dean again.

But you weren't going to take the easy way out. Grabbing your jeans, you slipped them on. Leaving Dean's t-shirt on, you slipped out of the room, down to the kitchen, where Sam was sitting at the table. Dean was standing at the oven, a towel thrown over his shoulder as he fixed pancakes. 

"Morning Y/N, how are you feeling?" Sam asked you, setting the newspaper down.

"Okay." You mumbled, getting a cup of coffee.

"Good, I was worried the whole thing with the Djinn might have worn you out." He replied before picking up the paper again.

You took a deep breath and then walked over to Dean, setting your cup down before taking a chance and sliding behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing you cheek to his back. "Good morning Dean." You whispered.

You considered it a win when he didn't flinch or pull away from you. Instead he slowly turned, so he was facing you, and your cheek was now pressed against his chest. 

"Y/N." He said, and you hummed a response, too caught up in the feel of having Dean in your arms. 

He took a finger, and tilted your chin up, so you were gazing into his forest green eyes. "I just wanted to apologize for last night. You were right, I was being a dick. It's just your nightmare hit me a little harder than I thought it would, and I had a hard time dealing with it."

"Its okay." You told him, as he leaned down and lightly pressed his lips to your forehead. 

"Do you guys know what this means?" Sam asked from behind you.

You didn't turn to look at him, instead you nestled closer to his chest. "What Sammy?" Dean answered as he wrapped his arms around you.

"Well, I know for a fact you slept out in the library last night Dean. If the curse was still active, you wouldn't have been able to do that. So somehow, having to go into Y/N's dreams  cured you of the curse."


	60. What Now

"Really? The curse is gone?" You asked, stepping back out of Dean's arms to study him closely, looking for any changes, even though there should be no outward ones.

You watched as he shrugged, a little uncomfortable at being the center of both yours and Sam's attention. "I hadn't really considered it."

Sam stood up, and crosses to where you and Dean stood. "I was wondering as soon as we returned, because with the curse Dean would have probably stayed by your side, no matter how pissed he was at you."

"Hey, I wasn't that bad." He argued, which caused you and Sam to laugh.

"Dean, I couldn't even use the bathroom without you whining." You teased.

"Really?" He pouted.

"Don't worry, you were only a little annoying, but mostly adorable. And nowhere near as pathetic as I was." You told him, standing up on your tiptoes and kissing the end of his nose.

"Alright enough with this, what are our plans today?" Dean asked, trying to sidetrack the conversation that was currently embarrassing him.

"Well, I have some errands to run, and there's no case out there right now. So I was thinking a relaxing day." Sam said, standing up and placing his cup into the sink.

"Errands? Can I come with?" You asked, wanting to go to the store and grab some items.

"Not today. How about you stay home and relax. Yesterday had to have been taxing on you." He told you, backing out of the room.

"Hey Sam, take one of the other cars. I'm gonna work on Baby today. I heard a knocking I really didn't care for." Dean said, handing you a plate full of pancakes.

"I could help you." You today him, before you dug into your breakfast. You wondered why Sam was acting so weird, he never said no when you asked to go on errands runs. You understood where he was coming from, but still. Before you could ask Dean, he was answering your first question.

"No, I don't need any help." He told you, before shoving a huge bite into his mouth.

You felt a little hurt that neither brother wanted you with them, but you didn't let it bug you too much. "Fine, I guess I will figure something else out for today."

He finished his food, and stood up placing his plate in the sink, before coming and standing next you, placing his hand on your shoulder. "It's not that I don't want you with me, I just want you to rest and relax today. After I'm done, maybe we can watch some movies or something."

You nodded, and he left, and you were on your own. Sighing, you glanced around the kitchen, knowing you had been delegated to clean up duty. Turning on the old fashioned radio in the corner, you started the dishes, the routine chore calming you. As you washed you thought about this morning, how everything had gone much better than you could have hoped for. Dean was being Dean, but he had gotten past whatever he was feeling because of the dream, and things were once again going a little smooth between the two of you.

That's when you decided to bake next. You were still a little tired from your run in with the Djinn, but you also didn't feel like sitting down yet, or taking a nap. So instead, you opened the cupboards rummaging through them, as you tried to find anything that wasn't twenty years over it's expiration date.

You were in the middle of pulling out a heavy bag of flour, when you heard Dean's phone start ringing. He never left his phone behind, so you were surprised to hear it behind you. Dropping the bag onto the table, you grabbed it, surprised to see Charlie's name on the screen.

Knowing it would go to voicemail before you got it to Dean, you answered it, hoping he wouldn't be too upset. "Hello?" 

"Y/N? Is that you? Or has Dean's voice gotten really high?" Charlie asked, but behind her teasing you could tell she was on edge, nervous or scared about something.

"Nope, it's me. What's up?" You asked her, heading towards the garage and Dean.

"Well, where's Dean and Sam because I'm sure they would like to hear what I have to say." She told you, just as you came to the garage.

You saw Dean bending over the front of the Impala, and for a moment you just stood there, enjoying the view, until you remembered Charlie was on the other end of the line. "Sorry, it's just Dean and I here. Sam went on an errand run."

"Well can you put him on please? And hurry." She said, her voice going a pitch higher with fright.

"Dean!" You yelled, wincing as he almost hit his head on the hood. "Charlie's on the phone."

He nodded, wiping his hands on an old towel before grabbing the phone from you. "Hey Charlie, what's up?"

You listened to his side of the conversation, wishing he would have thought to put it on speaker. "You found it really?" He asked her, his eyebrow raising in surprise. "Where?"

You tried to remember what she was looking for, but it wasn't ringing any bells. "So you have something glued to your shoe? Where are you?" 

Only able to watch as Dean started pacing in front of you, his shoulders tight, you knew something was wrong. You grabbed your phone out of your pocket, dialing Sam just as Dean hung up. "Damn it." He muttered, looking towards you.

"I'm calling Sam." You explained, and he nodded, holding his hand out for your phone. Passing it over, you listened to his very brief conversation with Sam, before he was handing it back to you.

"What's going on?" You asked Dean, as he turned back to finish working on the Impala. Grabbing a wrench, he faced you, his face dead serious. 

"Charlie found the Book of the Dead. But she's being chased. We need to get to her before they do." He told you. You were scared for Charlie. You had only met her once, but you had immediately liked her, and you wanted nothing bad to happen.

"I'll go pack for both of us." You told him, as he ducked back under the hood of the Impala.


	61. Meeting Up With Charlie

Sam arrived back at the bunker within ten minutes, and by then Dean was done fixing up the Impala. You had packed for both you and Dean, so the two of you waited nervously by the side of Baby as Sam quickly threw items into the bag.

Dean was busy tapping his foot, his nervousness showing. Dean cared for Charlie as a sister, and you knew he would hold himself responsible if anything happened to her. You placed your hand on his shoulder, trying to soothe him. "Dean, don't worry. She's smart, smarter than any of us. She will be fine." 

He pulled you into a tight hug, resting his chin on the top of your head. "I know she is. But these men following her, they don't sound good. And she's still new at this hunting thing." 

Just then Sam showed up, his bag over his shoulder. You leaned up, pressing a kiss to Dean's cheek before climbing into the backseat. Sam threw his bag in, and moved to his usual place, and Dean backed the Impala out, turning her onto the road.

"So, we sent Charlie to one of Bobby's old cabins about three hours from here." Dean told Sam. "Figured that was the safest place for her."

Sam nodded, and then the ride turned silent, each of you consumed with the nagging fear that you might not get there fast enough, or that something might have already happened. Dean was pushing the Impala, going at least ten over the speed limit, cutting your three hour trip much shorter than it should have been. 

You watched as the scenery changed, from the fields of corn and wheat, to trees, the road climbing as you went further into the forest. The road soon turned from pavement to gravel, then to pot holed dirt, causing Dean to slow down so he wouldn't hurt his car. 

You kept your eyes trained up ahead, wondering what type of scene would meet you once you arrived. After about fifteen minutes of the worse road you had ever been on, you arrived in a small clearing, and an old, log cabin stood out in front of you. It had seen better days, the wood was old and rustic, the small front porch missing boards, some shutters hanging on by one nail. But you weren't paying any attention to that. You noticed a small, nondescript hatchback parked to the side of it, showing that Charlie had made it to the cabin.

Dean stopped the Impala right out front, and both brothers jumped out before you could even move, their long legged strides eating up the ground between the Impala and the cabin. Sam knocked on the door, while Dean stood to the side, both of their shoulders stiff as they awaited the scene in front of them. By the time you had joined them, Charlie had opened the door, letting the three of you inside. It was dark, and dusty, with a moldy unused smell that immediately made you sneeze. Ignoring your itchy nose, you turned to look at the red haired woman who opened the door. Her hair was shorter than when you had last seen her, curly and cut to below her ears. It fit her, more than her long haired look from before. She was sporting a cut lip, and a shiner on her right eye. But it was the way she was holding herself that had you worried. She had a hand protectively wrapped around her middle, her face pale with pain.

"Charlie what happened?" You asked, just as Dean went in for a hug. He stopped at your words, looking down at her with concern.

"The stupid bastards shot me. I never realized how hard it was to stitch yourself up." She muttered. "Passed out a couple of times before I could get the job done."

Dean patted her on the shoulder, not wanting to jostle her injury more by hugging her. "Why don't you have Sammy take a look at it. He's good with stitches." 

Sam nodded, before welcoming her himself. She then turned, and gave you a smile. "Nice to see you again Y/N. Last I heard you had gone missing. Both boys here thought you were dead."

You gave her a gentle hug, before stepping back. "It's a long story. But I'm back now, where I belong." You told her.

She turned, walking gingerly, until she came to her backpack. Pulling out a cloth bundle, she handed it to Sam, who carefully unwrapped it. "The Book of the Dead." She announced, and you looked around Dean to see a heavy, ancient book in Sam's hands. Each page was full of symbols.

You watched as Dean took a step forward, his hand raised, before stepping back. Peering up at his face you noticed a mixture of wanting and disgust on his face as he looked at the book. 

"I don't think this is a good idea." He announced. "There is nothing but evil coming from that book, and the Mark is itching to get its hands on it. I think we should burn it."

"But Dean, this book might say how to get the Mark off of you." Sam argued, but you could tell Dean had already made up his mind. 

"Sammy, I think that the price will be too high." he replied, grabbing the keys of the Impala. "I'm going to go for a supply run. I bet there is no food here whatsoever."

Without a second glance, he left the small cabin, leaving the three of you to stare after him.

"Well, that's not what I expected." Charlie said, as she carefully eased herself down on the couch.

Sam stared at the book, biting his lip as he thought. "I know Dean said this book is bad news, but it's the only lead we have right now. I have to try it. I can't lose my brother, no matter the cost." Sam said, before setting the book down and grabbing his laptop. 

You had mixed emotions. You knew Dean was probably right, after all he had the Mark as an evil meter. But you were also with Sam, you wanted your Dean back, you could see how the Mark was slowly eating him alive. Sighing, you turned to Sam. "How can I help?"


	62. The Steins

The cabin was quiet, the three of you busy trying to translate the creepy, ancient book. Sam was at work on his computer, while Charlie had one of her code books out. You were currently going through all the paperwork Dean had brought from the bunker, when you landed on something.

"Hey guys, I think this might be important." You said, startling both Charlie and Sam. They placed their work down before moving your way.

"Is it about the book because I've found nothing so far on the laptop." Sam said, rubbing the back of his neck.

You shook your head. "Not really. It's more about the guys following Charlie. They have an entire file on them in here." You explained. "They're called the Steins, and they have a long, evil bloodline. Did your guy have this tattoo?" You asked, showing Charlie the picture.

"Yeah he did." She answered. 

" Supposedly they are in charge with protecting this book, so I know they aren't going to give up easily. But I hope you lost them because from what I've read, they scare the crap out of me." You told her, shivering at the thought.

"Hopefully I did, because I agree. Those men were horrible. But what.." She startled, but then the three of you heard the roar of the Impala, followed by Dean rushing into the cabin, his hands empty of the snacks he was supposed to be getting.

You stared at him, noticing that he looked roughened up. His hair was ruffled, his coat had a rip in it, and you were pretty sure there was blood on his shirt. "Dean, what the hell happened to you?" You asked.

He locked the door, before closing all the curtains and shutting off the lights, leaving the fire as the only light. "I met the Steins. They're probably on their way here now." 

You gasped, not wanting to have anything to do with those men. "What should we do?" You asked, wanting to keep busy so you didn't have to think about what might happen.

Dean had his knife out as he glanced out the window. "Burn the damned book." He said, but nobody moved to follow his orders. "It's what they're after. We need to burn it, get rid of all that evil before it falls into the wrong hands." 

"But Dean, that would be burning the only hope we have so far." Sam argued, but by the set of Dean's shoulders you knew he wasn't going to accept any substitutes.

"I don't care. I don't want the chance that this level of evil will get into the wrong hands just because I wanted to be saved. Now burn it!" He said, just as a shot came through the window near Charlie. The three of you took up your positions, each one armed with a knife, but Dean had his gun with him. Sam was moving to where the book laid, grabbing it off the table, just as the door burst open, and men flooded inside.

You went to guard Sam, who was moving towards the fire, while Charlie and Dean battled the other two. You heard one, the leader, arguing, saying he would let everyone live if we just handed the book over.

You turned your back on Sam for a moment, seeing movement out of the corner of your eye. A tall, blonde haired man was rushing towards you, with bare hands. You waited, your knees bent, until he was close, and then you sprung, lowering your shoulder and rushing him. The two of you grappled, and for a moment you thought you were going to lose. He was strong, inhumanely strong, and he had his hand wrapped around your throat, lifting you up. You struggled for a moment, but you were able to swing your knife up, sticking it deep into his chest. He dropped you, but he didn't stagger, or fall to the floor. He smiled at you, pulling the knife out of his shoulder, but his smile disappeared when he looked at Sam.

"Son, I wouldn't do that." He said, his southern drawl deep. You turned to see Sam drop a clothed bundle onto the hot coals of the fire. He came charging at Sam, shoving you in the process, and you almost fell to the floor, but you were able to catch yourself. Glancing around the room, you noticed Dean was done with his person, who laid on the floor, bleeding pouring from his neck.

You pointed at Charlie, and Dean went to help her, while you turned to help Sam. He was holding his own against the strong man, but you still ran in, grabbing the iron fire poker, swinging it as hard as you could against the man's head. He dropped to the floor, and you and Sam stood there, chests heaving.

Dean and Charlie came to stand by you, both a little bloodied and bruised, but otherwise fine. "We should go. There could be more." Charlie warned, and you agreed. She went to grab her stuff, and you started packing up the notes and the laptop, while Dean drug the bodies outside. Sam went to shut down the fire, and within moments the four of you were ready to go. 

"Hey Charlie? Want someone to drive you back to the bunker?" Dean asked, but she shook her head.

"That's alright. I have some things I need to do. Like sleep for a week. I should be fine, now that those guys are gone." She said, giving each of you a hug. You were sad to see her go, but you understood where she was coming from. 

The three of you followed behind her in the Impala, all the way to the main road, where she turned left while Dean turned right. The trip was quiet, each of you staring out into the darkness, lost in thought. You were disappointed that the book hadn't worked out, but you were also a little relieved. If someone as bad as the Steins were after it, you weren't sure you wanted it translated. But now, Dean was stuck with the Mark, and you were back at square one.

Once Dean parked the Impala back at the bunker, the three of you went your separate ways. Dean went into the library, no doubt to pour himself whiskey, while Sam went straight to his room. You made your way to the kitchen, wanting a midnight snack before you fell asleep. You were in the middle of making a sandwich when Dean came through the door. "I'm hitting the sack. You coming?"

Placing a slice of cheese on the bread, you shook your head no. "Not yet. I'm making a sandwich. Want me to make you one?"

"I'm good. Thanks though. Hurry up and come to bed Y/N." He told you, his eyes dark with exhaustion. He left, and you sat down at the table, taking a bite of your sandwich before you had another visitor.

"Hey Sam." You said, your voice soft. He smiled at you before grabbing a cup and pouring himself a glass of milk. He sat across from you, and the two of you enjoyed your food in silence, but you knew something was bugging him.

Finally, he came out with it. "Y/N, I need to tell you something. Please don't judge me." He said, his hazel eyes serious and pleading.

You sat your sandwich down, your attention fully on Sam. "Of course Sam. You're my best friend, I won't judge you."

He fiddled with his empty glass a moment before continuing. "Well, you saw me burn the book right?" He asked, and you nodded. "What if I told you it wasn't the Book of the Damned?" He said, wincing as he waited for your reaction.

"What?" You asked, not sure you had heard him correctly. "Does that mean you still have it?" 

He nodded. "It's in a locked box, in my room. Y/N, we were so close, I couldn't burn it. I need it translated. I need my brother back." He told you, before dropping his head, and placing it in his hands, and you could only sit and stare at him, wondering what was going to happen now.


	63. Deceit

"Sam, how are we going to get it translated? Because Charlie is the best code breaker I know, and she couldn't even begin to touch it." You told him, pushing your plate away. You were no longer hungry.

"I'm working on that. But please, don't tell anything to Dean. He was so adamant back there that we burn the book. I can't even imagine how pissed he would be if he found out." Sam said quietly, desperate but upset that he had to sneak around his brother.

You sighed. You didn't want to lie to Dean, not at all, but on the other hand, you were with Sam. What if this book gave you the opportunity to save him? "Fine. I don't like this, and I'm not very good at lying, especially to Dean. But we need the Mark gone, and if this can help, I guess it's a chance we have to take."

Without another word, you stood up, tossing what was left of your sandwich into the trash, smiling at Sam before you left the kitchen. If you had thought you were tired before hand, you were exhausted now, the lie sitting heavy on your chest, and you haven't even had to face Dean yet.

You stopped in front of the door, not sure you were ready to face him. He knew you so well, that with one look at your face he could probably tell something was wrong. Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm yourself. Not sure if it worked or not, you opened the door to a dark room, the only light coming from the bathroom. Dean was already sprawled on the bed, laying on his stomach, the covers pulled up to his waist.

Slipping into the room, you grabbed a t-shirt from the dresser, and changed in the bathroom. Leaving your clothes in a pile next to the door, you stood at the edge of the bed for a moment, staring down at Dean. In sleep he looked so peaceful, so much younger, as if he wasn't this big, bad hunter. You loved seeing him like this, with his guard down, his long eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. Slipping under the covers, you turned on your side, facing Dean.

His eyes fluttered open as he felt the movement of the bed, and he gave you a half-hearted smile. "There you are." He murmured, lifting his hand to place it gently on your cheek.

"Sorry, I was hungry." You told him.

"Mmm." He answered, his eyes closing. Before he was fully asleep, he turned onto his back, pulling you to nestle against his chest. You splayed your hand across his chest, your previous worries forgotten as you slowly drifted to sleep.

_____________________________________________________

The next morning, you felt the brush of fingers as Dean ran his hand up and down your arm. You stirred, burrowing yourself deeper against his chest, not ready to wake up yet.

"Morning sleepy head." He told you, pressing a kiss against the top of your head.

You shook your head. "No, it's too early." You muttered, wanting more sleep.

You felt his chest rumble as he laughed. "Y/N, it's ten o'clock. We never sleep in this late."

Sighing, you tilted your head up. "Really? You let me sleep in that late?"

He nodded, before slowly untangling himself from you, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. "Yep, I thought you could use it."

You stood up too, grabbing a pair of pants, and heading out to the kitchen. You figured since Dean was so nice to let you sleep in, the least you could was feed him brunch.

Sam was in the kitchen when you arrived. "Did you even go to sleep last night?" You teased him, but he was busy glancing behind you.

"Is Dean coming?" He asked you, his eyes trained on the door.

You shook your head, pouring a cup of coffee. "Not yet, he was hoping in the shower first."

Grabbing eggs and milk from the fridge, you decided to make french toast, but you stopped when you heard Sam's voice. "Good, cause I need you to cover for me." 

"What?" You asked, your voice raising. Glancing at the door, you lowered it, setting the items on the counter.

"I think I have someone who may be able to translate the text. Or at least have an idea of what to do. I need to go meet her, but I don't want Dean to know." He told you, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.

"Sam, you are so going to get me in trouble!" You hissed at him. "Who is this lady? Can we trust her?"

He shrugged, his gaze leading away from you, and you knew then, he was ashamed of what he was doing. "Sam, who is she?" You asked again.

"It's Rowena okay? I know, she's an evil witch, and Crowley's Mom, but she's also a powerful, ancient witch who knows a lot of things." He explained, pleading with you to understand.

"What is the price? Because you know she is going to ask for a price." You asked him, turning back to brunch, anything to get your mind off of what Sam was telling you.

"I don't know. That's why I need to meet with her. See if it's even plausible. I just need you to cover me, tell Dean I went on errands for you, something." He begged.

Pointing the spatula at him, you warned him. "Fine, I will do this. Because I want Dean cured just as much as you. But promise me you won't trust her, at all."

"I won't. And thank you Y/N." He told you.

"Don't thank me. Not yet. Now about those errands." You said, dropping the first piece of toast into the pan.

"What errands?" Dean asked, stepping through the door, his face lighting up as he realized what you were cooking. 

"Sam is going to run some errands for me today. Just some stuff I need." You told him, as Dean came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you.

"Sam, need me to come with?" Dean asked, almost drooling as the first piece was done. Sam was standing up by that time, heading out the door.

"No thanks, I can run these myself. And this way, you and Y/N can have some time together, without your brother being the third wheel." He threw over his shoulder, rushing out of the room.

Dean shook his head, grabbing a plate and dishing up the piping hot food. "What got into him?" He asked, and you sighed, hoping Sam wasn't going to get the two of you into too much trouble.


	64. Pie

After breakfast, Dean had volunteered to clean up, and you headed into the library. Once in there, you stood there, wondering what you should do with a day off. You weren't sure you wanted to sit and watch a movie, but there weren't that many other options in the bunker.

Grabbing a novel off of one of the bookshelves, you slid into one of the seats, tucking your legs up underneath you. You hardly had time for leisurely reading, and you decided it was the perfect time. Before you started reading, you listened to Dean in the kitchen, slamming pots and pans together, singing off key to a classic rock song that was stuck in his head.

Smiling, you started reading, and soon lost track of time as you got sucked into the book. It was relaxing, and soon you had forgotten all your problems as you became entranced in the story line the book provided.

You were so involved in your book, that you hadn't noticed the noise in the kitchen had quieted down. All of a sudden, your shoulders were grabbed from behind, and you screamed, hitting whoever was behind you with your book.

As you calmed down, you heard Dean start chuckling behind you. "Damn it Dean, you scared the crap out of me!" You yelled at him, hitting him in the shoulder with your book again.

"Sorry." He apologized, but he had a huge grin on his face, and you knew the apology was more for your benefit. "You just looked so peaceful, and relaxed." He told you.

"So you decided to scare me?" You replied, but you weren't mad. 

"So while I was in the kitchen I got a call from an old hunter acquaintance . Supposedly there is a vamp nest about an hour from here." He told you, sitting in the chair across from you. 

"Are we going to take it then? Or is he already on it?" You asked him.

He nodded his head. "I told him we would take it. I'm getting bored here. And it's a lot closer to us than to him. Any idea when Sammy should be back? Or should we make it a date?" He asked you, wagging his eyebrows at you, making you laugh, but not as hard as you usually do, because your mind automatically went back to the deal with Sam.

"I think his errands will last him a while. Let's you and I go. Then maybe we can stop and get something to eat." You told him, standing up and stretching. 

"Pie?" He asked, standing up and following you to the garage.

"Of course. We can get pie." You laughed.

The ride to the vamp's nest was fun. It had been too long since Dean and You and gone on a hunt alone. The both of you sang along to the songs on the radio, each trying to outdo each other on the solo's.

Dean had you laughing so hard, that you had to admit defeat. Trying to calm down, you checked your phone, noticing you had a missed text from Sam. 

"So I just met with her." Was all it said, and you knew he had purposefully left her name out in case Dean read your phone.

"And?" You texted back, needing to know more. Making sure you were far against the window, you kept your phone tilted so Dean couldn't see the screen.

"Are you home? We need to talk about it." He quickly texted back.

You turned to Dean. "Hey didn't you tell Sam we were heading on the hunt?" You asked him. He had finally come down from his high of winning the sing off, and was currently tapping his finger along to the song playing on the radio.

"Nope. But I did leave him a note." He replied, and you shook your head.

You texted Sam back. "No, Dean heard of a hunt. We are heading there now."

You waited for his reply, and you missed the quick glance Dean gave you. "What are you doing? Texting your secret boyfriend?" He teased, but you noticed a hint of insecurity. 

"No, just Sam. He was wondering where we are." You told him as truthfully as possible.

"Oh." Was all he answered.

You checked your phone, and noticed Sam had replied while you had been talking to Dean. "A hunt? How far away? Do you need me to join you?"

You asked Dean. "Do you want Sam to join us?"

He shook his head. "Nah, we've got it covered. And this way we have some time to ourselves."

You texted Sam what Dean had said, adding the fact that he hadn't told you anything about meeting with Rowena yet.

"I promise. As soon as you get back, I will tell you about it. It's safer that way." He texted back, and you put your phone away, hating the fact that you would be wondering for the rest of the hunt.

"That was a lot of texting." Dean said, as he pulled up to a rickety RV park. There were only three or four beat up campers in it, the rest of the spots were weeded over. 

"Sam was worried." You answered, getting out of the car, and getting your machete from the back. 

"Let's go." Dean said simply, and the two of you made your way to the boarded up campers. "You take one, I take the other?" He asked, and you nodded.

He went to the biggest camper, swinging the door wide open. You went to the next one, a more quiet approach. With the windows boarded up, it was hard to see inside the dark room, and you wanted to hold your breath to get away from the rotten, stink that filled the small area. 

Holding your machete out in front of you, you took a step in, and you were immediately met by a female vampire trying to jump you. Apparently she had heard the squeak of the door. She landed on you, knocking you back, into the side of the fridge. The two of you grappled for a moment, and finally you swung her off of you, where she landed on the table. Before she could leap up, you had your machete and you swung it, taking her head clean off in a single swipe.

You glanced around, but she was the only one in the trailer. Stepping out, you moved to the third one, but it was empty. Making your way to the one that Dean was currently rocking, you were almost ready to grasp the handle when it stilled. Dean stood at the door frame, covered in blood, but with a huge smile on his face.

"The other two?" He asked.

You shrugged, following him as he headed out of the trailer, to a fridge that was sitting outside. Opening it up, he grabbed a beer before tossing you on. "Only one vamp in that one. The other was empty."

He nodded, dipping his hands into a rain barrel, washing the blood away. You had been more lucky, most of the blood had sprayed against the window, away from you. "So, how about that pie?" He asked, and you shook your head, amazed at how childish he could be at times.


	65. Story Time

Slamming your shoulder into the door, you pushed it open. "Sam! We're home!" You yelled, as you struggled with the weight of the bag in your arms.

Dean was right behind you, his arms equally full as the two of you struggled to make it to the kitchen. Carefully unloading your bags onto the table, Dean did the same. By this time Sam had also made his way into the kitchen, a book in one hand, a curious look on his face.

"What is all this?" He asked, dropping his book to peek into one of the bags.

"Dinner, and dessert. Mainly dessert." You replied, pulling out not just one, but three different pies. You then started to take out Styrofoam containers, setting them on the counter.

"We found this new Diner about fifteen minutes from here, sells food to go. We were going to eat there, but Y/N felt sorry for you, here all by yourself." Dean said. He started taking the packs of beer he had been carrying, and placing them in the vintage fridge, leaving out one bottle for each of you.

You opened the containers, almost drooling at the sight in front of you. It was all home style cooking, and you had fried chicken, mashed potatoes, biscuits, corn on the cob, mac and cheese, and a huge salad.

Sam must have been hungry, because he started getting plates and silverware ready. The three of you piled your plates high, before setting down at the table. At first it was quiet, the three of you enjoying the home cooked food. But soon, Dean couldn't handle the silence anymore.

"So Sam, what were you up to today?" He asked, before shoving a huge fork full into his mouth.

Stirring the mashed potatoes on his plate, Sam answered. "I had some stuff to do around town today. Nothing important."

"What type of errands did you have to do?" Dean persisted, and you weren't sure if he was merely curious, or was beginning to figure out something was going on.

"The usual. Stopped at the drug store, picked up some items to top off our first aid kit. Went to the bookstore." He answered, never looking up.

"Bullshit." Dean announced, and both you and Sam stared at him in alarm. "It's a girl, isn't it?"

"Yeah, sure it's a girl." Sam agreed.

Not wanting to get caught in the middle of it, you decided to change the subject. "Anybody ready for dessert?"

Of course the mention of dessert worked for Dean, and he nodded, scooping up the last of his food and shoving it into his mouth. Laughing, you stood up and went to the counter, but not before you caught Sam's grateful smile.

"So lets see. We have cherry, apple, and chocolate cream. Who wants what?" You asked, setting out plates.

"One of each." Dean told you, and when you glanced at him you realized he wasn't even joking. 

Shaking your head at Dean's antics, you looked Sam's way, raising your eyebrow in question. "I guess a slice of cherry." He answered.

Dishing up Dean's overload of pie, and you and Sam's smaller slices, you came back to the table. "So, how did the hunt go?" Sam asked the both of you.

"Way to easy. Wasn't even a challenge." Dean muttered, his mouth full of pie. 

"Really? I had heard it was a nest." Sam said.

You answered. "Well, it was. I took one out. Dean took out the rest. What was it two or three?" You asked him, leaning forward to wipe the crumbs from the side of his mouth.

"Try more like five." He said proudly. You had never made it into the bigger trailer, but you weren't surprised. With the Mark, Dean had a little more power, and his blood lust was running high.

Sam patted him on the back as he walked his plate to the sink. "Nice job. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to my room."

You watched Sam as he left, wondering if you were ever going to hear what had happened between him and Rowena.

"Do you really think it's a girl? Or do you think something else is going on?" Dean asked you, finally finishing off his pie. You stood up, deciding to work on the dishes, not sure how you should answer Dean.

"I really don't know. He's your brother, you would know more than me." You answered.

You heard him sigh before he came behind you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist, snuggling into your neck. "Yeah, but you've spent a lot of time with him. You two are close, which makes me very happy. I just thought that when you texted him he might have mentioned something." He told you before kissing his way around your neck, causing you to squirm.

"If you want to do that, we need to stop talking about your brother." You whispered. Dean took a step back, and you automatically missed his body heat, and his lips on you.

"I do want to do that, and more. But I'm also worried about him. If anyone should be secretive and moody, it should be me. I'm the one that has this freaking thing on my arm." Dean argued, shaking his arm at you in case you forgot what he was talking about.

You placed your hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down. "True, but he worries for you. More than you probably realize. And it's killing him that he hasn't found a way to help you yet."

Groaning, he knew you were right. "Fine. Maybe I can go talk to him. Maybe he's been feeling left out with everything that's gone on with the two of us." Dean announced, turning to leave the room.

"Dean." You stopped him. "Why don't you let me? Maybe he will open up to me."

He came back into the room, wrapping his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head gently, your favorite hug of his. "What would I do without you? You are so freaking smart and beautiful."

"Crash and burn." You teased. "Now, finish these dishes, and I will go talk to your brother." You told him, hoping this was your chance to finally figure out what was going on.

Dean muttered under his breath about having to be on clean up duty twice in one day, but complied and went to the sink. At least there weren't very many dishes for him to have to deal with.

You made your way down the hallway, knocking on Sam's closed door. "Come in." His voice sounded from the other side, and you pushed open the door to see him laying propped against his headboard, his laptop on his lap.

"Hey. Dean wanted me to come talk to you. Make sure everything was okay." You told him.

"Y/N, you already know what happened." He said, confused. 

You perched on the edge of his bed. "I know that, but he doesn't. So I figured it would be better for me to talk to you than him."

He nodded, agreeing with your assessment. "True. So did you want to hear what happened?" He asked, moving his laptop off to the side.

"Duh." You teased.

"Shut up." He teased back. "Well, she actually showed up, which surprised me. She said she would be able to, for a price, which we figured."

"What's the price?" You asked, fearing something horrible.

"She wants her son dead." He answered you, shocking you. You had known there was some bad blood between the two, but you hadn't expected this.

"Why? I mean I know they don't really see eye to eye, but to kill him?" You asked.

"Well, she told me that he's kicked her out. She seemed pretty upset about it." He explained.

"Well, what did you say?" You asked him.

He looked at you, and you immediately knew his answer. "But there's one more thing." He told you.

"Of course. There's always one more thing." You said sarcastically. 

He sighed. "Well, she needs a book for the code, a codex. And I found the codex. It was taken by the Men of Letters years ago, and now it's in some house a couple of hours from here."

"So when are we going to go get it?" You asked him, but by the frown on his face, you knew he was planning on going alone. "No, wait, you can't do this all. Let me help!" You begged.

He grasped your hand in his, a friendly gesture. "I know you want to help. And you are, more than you could ever know. But I need you here, keeping Dean occupied, his focus off of me."

You groaned. "Do you have any idea how hard that is? Dean is way too smart, and too observant. He's gonna notice something is wrong soon enough. And then both you and I are going to have hell to pay."


	66. Given the Slip

After you left Sam, you went straight into the room you shared with Dean. The hunt had worn you out, and you were ready to crawl into bed and forget about all of your problems. Opening the door, you realized Dean hadn't retired for the night yet. He was either finishing up in the kitchen, or was drinking his night away in the library.

You weighed your options. You could either go and look for Dean, spending some time with him, or you could crawl into bed and hopefully he would return before you crashed for the night. Deciding on the second option, you quickly changed into one of Dean's t-shirts, and slid under the covers, turning onto your side. Cuddling into Dean's space, you let your eyes drift closed. You were almost asleep when you heard the door creak open.

"Y/N?" Dean whispered, seeing if you were awake. You almost didn't answer him. You knew he would probably want to talk about his brother, and you weren't sure you had the energy to tackle that tonight.

"I'm awake." You decided to answer, turning farther on your side so you could see him. He turned the light on, and came over to the bed, gently sitting on the edge, facing you. 

"I was surprised when you didn't come find me." He told you, brushing your hair back from your face. "I wasn't sure if you were still talking to Sam."

"No, I finished about five minutes ago." You answered, before yawning.

He nodded. "How did it go?"

You sighed. "It went as well as expected. He said everything's going well. And no, he doesn't feel left out or stressed because of whats happened with the two of us. He's just worried about you."

He nodded. "Well, did you tell him not to take it too hard, to not worry about it as much? We all want me to be cured, but I don't want him to kill himself over it."

"He said he's gonna take a hunt on his own tomorrow. Wants some time to himself, but it's not a big hunt. " You told him, as he slipped off his shoes, jeans and flannel before sliding into bed next to you. He pulled you close, letting you rest your head upon his chest.

"Maybe I should go ask him if he wants me to go with him." Dean suggested, but you shook his head. 

"Dean, let him do this. We can go to a movie, or bowling or something." You replied.

"Fine, but I'm not going to promise I will stay away the entire time. I don't want anything happening to him." He answered, and you knew it was the best he was going to give you.

Tilting your head up, you pressed a slow, lingering kiss on Dean's lip, nibbling on his bottom lip, before snuggling back up to his chest, his arm tight around you. "Night Dean." You whispered.

You felt him kiss the top of your head. "Night sweetheart."

____________________________________________________________________

The next morning you woke to find the bed empty. Rubbing your hand against the sheets, you noticed they were still warm, and you knew Dean hadn't been gone long. Stretching, you slowly made your way out of bed, when you noticed a note propped up on the nightstand.

"I've decided I didn't want Sam to have all the fun. He already left, but I'm on my way to catch up with him. Text me when you're awake."

Cussing under your breath, you slipped on yesterday's clothes, and ran out of the room, straight for the garage. Maybe you could catch Dean before he left. Your boots in your hand, you skidded around the corners in your socked feet, smashing hard into the opposite wall.

Cussing the bruise that was going to show up on your shoulder, you finally made it into the garage just as you heard the roar of the Impala. Dean had his head turned, glancing over his shoulder as he started to back the Impala out, and you rushed forward, opening the door and jumping in.

"Damn it Y/N, you scared the shit out of me." He cussed, slamming on the brakes, causing you, in your haste, to slam forward, your head hitting the side of the steering wheel.

"Shit. Y/N, are you alright?" He asks, helping you sit up. You nod, rubbing the bump that was already forming on your temple. 

"Yeah. But Dean, why are you doing this? Sam said he wanted to do this on his own." You asked, sitting sideways so you could face him.

"I know. But I just have a bad feeling about it." He answered. "Now are you coming with, or staying behind?"

Buckling your seat belt was your answer, and Dean once again started backing the car out of the garage. "How do you even know were to go?"

He held up a small hotel notebook, with a pencil rubbing showcasing the hidden message. "That's how." 

You knew it was about a two hour ride to the house, and you went to pull your phone out to warn Sam. Patting your pockets, you realized they were empty. "Damn it Dean. I left my phone, everything, behind."

He just shrugged as he headed down the highway, and you leaned against the window, deciding that you could catch a few more hours of sleep.

____________________________________

"Rise and shine Y/N!" Dean yelled at you, and you jumped away, wiping the drool from the side of your mouth. You glanced around, noticing you were in an older neighborhood, the homes mostly two story and from the turn of the century. 

"We're here? Already?" You asked, yawning.

"Yeah, sleepyhead. You slept the entire way." Dean teased you. Just then a hand appeared on your window, startling you.

"Sam!" You exclaimed, opening your door so he could lean in.

"What are you two doing here?" He asked, but his gaze was on you, a frown on his face.

"Well, I thought you might need some backup." Dean replied. 

"I told you I could handle it. It doesn't have anything to do with monsters." Sam explained.

"Well than what the hell are you doing here?" Dean asked, a frown appearing on his face as he realized he might have driven all this way for nothing.

Sam sighed. "It's an item. This used to be a Men of Letter's chapter house, and supposedly there is a book here that I wanted to take back home for safekeeping." 

Dean nodded, before opening his door and sliding out. "Well, let's get to it than."


	67. Curses

"You're a woman, would you please go talk to her." Sam pleaded, giving you his signature puppy dog eye look, and you could never say no to that, which he knew.

"Sam, are you afraid of a middle aged woman?" Dean teased, leaning against the trunk of the Impala, his arms and ankles crossed as he made fun of his brother. 

"Dean, she had her gun pointed at my crotch!." Sam answered, and Dean look horrified. 

"Well, I'm sure as hell not going to try then." He answered, placing his hand in front of his own crotch, as if that would protect it from a gunshot.

Sighing, you nodded. "Fine. I will go talk to her. But Dean, you're coming with me. She might be more open to a couple. Sam, you sneak around, try to get in the basement."

Sam nodded, but Dean stayed put. "Do you really need me?" He asked, glancing at the front porch of the house.

"Dean, I won't let her shoot you in the privates. I love our night time activities too much for that to happen." You told him, and Sam hid a laugh behind a cough.

You and Dean made your way up the porch steps, noticing the stuff piled high in the windows, the cobwebs on the corners. Knocking on the door, you waited until the door opened, and an older, frazzled woman opened the door. "What do you want?" She snarled, the door open wide enough you could just see her face.

"Did you see a guy earlier? A tall guy, with longer hair? We are part of the neighborhood watch, and we heard complaints about him." Dean improvised, and you could see the woman relax just a little bit.

"Yeah, I saw him. He wanted to come in the house. Probably wanted to rob me or something. But I showed him. Me and Henry here." She answered, showing you the pistol as she opened the door farther.

"Ma'am, do you mind if we come in and talk to you for a moment?" You asked her, and she shrugged, before turning her back on you, and heading through the crowded house. She moved through the living room, past the dining room, into the kitchen. Every spare inch of the countertops were covered with items and boxes, and you had the strangest urge to wash your hands.

"Tea?" She asked, and you nodded, watching as you put the kettle on to boil.

"So, have you lived here long?" You asked, hoping Sam was already inside and working on the safe where the book was being held.

"All my life. My parents lived here, then when they died, I lived her with my aunt." She answered, getting down a couple of mugs.

"I'm so sorry. What happened to your parents?" You questioned, trying to keep her occupied, and distracted from the light sounds coming from the basement.

"It was that thing. It's evil. I've stayed here, so no one else will get hurt." She said, her gaze turning glassy as she remembered, her hands shaking. It was then you heard the tumble of chairs from down below.

"It's that man, he's back! And you're working with him!" She exclaimed, grabbing her pistol and waving it around. "He can't open it! Get him back up here!"

You stayed put, your hands in the air, as Dean inched closer to the hallway. "Sam, she knows. Come back up here."

"Ma'am. We know what we're doing. We're trained to do things like this." You tried telling her, but you quickly stopped when she trained the gun on you, her shaking finger dangerously close to the trigger. 

"Sammy, man, come on!" Dean yelled, just as everyone heard a loud click. 

"He did it." She said, horror covering her face.A strong gust traveled through the house, before it became strangely quiet.

 Sam came bounding up the stairs, a worried look on his face. But by then she seemed to have forgotten about you, stiffly moving from the kitchen. 

"What happened?" You asked Sam, as the three of you started to follow her.

"I found it. But there is some sort of magical lock on it. When I tried to open it, a strange gust came out of it, then nothing."

It was then you heard the slam of a door, the study door in front of you. Rushing forward, you tried to open the door, but it was locked. 

"Suzie, let us in!" You pleaded, as you listened to her wails. You turned to see if Dean had any ideas, but he wasn't anywhere in view.

"Sam, stay here, I'm going to go find Dean." You told him, and he nodded, never turning his attention from the door. You rushed through the door, finding Dean standing in the middle of the room, a vacant stare on his face.

"Dean?" You asked, waving your hands over his face. He didn't move, or blink, and you were starting to worry. Placing your hand on his shoulder, you froze as the room blurred, then refocused, but you weren't in any part of the house anymore.

You were now in a dark and dreary forest,  full of dead and creepy trees. "Dean." You called out, not sure if you should have or not.

"Y/N?" You heard him answer, and you ran to where his voice came from. He was standing next to a fallen log, a primitive weapon in his hand. But that's not what surprised you, it was the man standing next to him. He was handsome, in a big, burly sort of way.

"Who are you? And where are we?" You asked, feeling as if you were being watched.

"Well, aren't you a tall glass of water on summer day." The man drawled in a southern accent. "The names Benny. And this here is Purgatory."

You gasped. You had heard of purgatory, Dean has told you stories. But you had never imagined you would find yourself there. 

"Dean, why are we here? Where's Sam?" You asked him, but he was busy staring down at his arm, where the Mark stood.

"Deans a little preoccupied." Benny told you, before turning back to Dean.

"Don't you think it's time to lay your gun down, to rest?" He told Dean, and you could only watch as Dean nodded. 

"It's this Mark. I don't know how much longer I can fight it, how much longer I want to." You heard Dean say. 

"Don't fight it. But you can't give in. You're a hunter, not a killer." Benny said in his smooth voice. 

"What can I do?" Dean asked, still in a daze. 

"Dean stop it!" You yelled, but it was like there was a thick fog between you, because he couldn't hear you at all, and even though you could see Benny's mouth moving, you could no longer hear his words.

You saw Dean looking down, his hand shaking as he raised the knife that was forged from some sort of bone. He raised it up, pointing at his chest, and your heart plummeted as you understood what he was about ready to do.

Forcing your legs to move, you ran forward, everything happening in slow motion. You felt as if you were running through sand, your movements were so slow and heavy. Pushing yourself as hard as you could, you watched as Dean raised the blade high, before slicing the air as it went down, right as you jumped in front of him.


	68. Just a Scratch

You had never believed the fact that critical or scary moments could happen in slow motion. You always believed they happened in the blink of an eye, with the person forgetting most of the facts. But here you were, being proven wrong. As you moved as fast as you could to where Dean was standing, you could hear the stillness of the trees, you could smell the moldy undergrowth of the forest, but you could not hear the words coming from Benny's mouth.

You dove in front of Dean just as you heard the swish of the blade cutting through the air, before you felt in slice into your shoulder. You groaned as the pain coursed through you. Your groan seemed to wake Dean from his daze, because he glanced at you in horror as Benny and the forest faded from view, turning back into the dusty, and cluttered living room.

Both of you glanced to his hand, where the blade had been. Now he was holding a shattered wine bottle, the broken glass glistening with your dark blood. Placing a hand on your shoulder, you staggered under the pain, before catching yourself from falling. Dean wrapped his arm around your shoulder, holding you tightly as he glanced you over.

"It's just a scratch." You assured him, taking your hand off of the wound, wincing as you realized it was still bleeding freely.

"That's more than a scratch. That's going to need stitches." Dean told you, glancing around for anything in the room that could be used. Muttering under his breath, he stripped out of his flannel shirt, pressing it hard against your shoulder, making you hiss in pain.

"Sissy." Dean called you, trying to take your attention away from the pain.

You shook him off, holding his shirt to your shoulder. "Dean, we have more important things to worry about here. If that sent you to Purgatory, and wanted you to kill yourself, than where is Sam?"

He glanced around, looking for his brother. "The basement!" He exclaimed, rushing through the room to the kitchen. You followed, feeling a little weak from your cut. He took the basement stairs two at a time, and soon you lost track of him as you took your time. Each step jarred your shoulder, but you trudged on, leaning against the wall as you made it down. You felt sweaty, and weak, but what you saw in front of you stopped your heart.

Sam was sitting in front of an old iron safe, one with intricate designs on the front, a bowl below it, full of blood. Sam was leaning listlessly to the side, his skin looking ashen as Dean gently tapped his cheek.

You waited, holding your breath, to see if Sam was okay. You glanced down at his arm, where you could see a deep slice across it, blood still oozing from the wound. "Come on Sammy." You whispered, sighing in relief when he took a deep gasping breath.

"Hey, Sammy, it's okay." Dean muttered to him, patting hit on his shoulder, his movements full of relief.

"Dean, no, I can't stop. It needs more." Sam pleaded, trying to push Dean out of the way to get back to the bowl.

"Sam, stop, you are in no shape to do this." Dean tried ordering, but Sam shook his head.

"No, it needs more. It needs more legacy blood." Sam kept repeating, unfocused due to his blood loss.

"Okay Sammy, I'm hearing you. But you're not the only legacy here." Dean said, grabbing the knife that was on the floor, and you winced as Dean sliced his own arm, turning it over so the blood poured down, into the bowl.

It didn't need much more, and soon the three of you heard a clicking noise, and the door opened by itself, revealing a small, leather bound book. Dean reached in and grabbed it, before turning back to Sam, helping him stand. You had already turned, and was slowly making your way up the stairs, and back into the kitchen.

Opening cupboards and drawers, you finally found what you were looking for, clean, white towels. By then, Dean had pushed Sam up the stairs, and Sam was standing unsteadily, but on his own. You took the towels over, wrapping them around his wrists, before tucking the ends in. You did the same to Dean's arm, but he pushed you back.

"How's your shoulder?" He asked, and you looked at it. In your haste to get towels for Sam, you had dropped Dean's flannel shirt. Your shoulder was caked in blood, your shirt ripped showing the shredded skin below. It had slowed down immensely, but was still painful.

"I'll live. What happened to Suzie?" You asked Sam.

"She was dead. The door finally opened, and when I got in there, she had unloaded a bullet into her mouth." He told you.

"We have the book, let's get the hell out of here." Dean said, wrapping his arm around his brothers shoulders, helping him out the door. You lead the way, opening the door, wincing as each step jarred your shoulder. Opening the passenger door, Sam fell into the passenger seat.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Dean asked you, and you nodded.

"It's stopped bleeding, and it's not as deep as I first thought. I will be fine." You insisted, climbing into the backseat, leaning your head against the cool window. You were exhausted, ready to get back to the bunker, and get cleaned up.

"So Sam, any idea what's in the book?" Dean asked, handing it over to him.

Sam shrugged, the movement pulling at the slices on his arms. "I don't know. But this way it's safe back at the bunker."

Dean pulled the Impala away, pointing it towards home, all three of you quiet for different reasons. You knew Dean probably remembered what had happened in Purgatory, and was worrying over it, while Sam was thinking about the book, and what it meant about freeing Dean from the Mark. And here you were, worrying about both of them, knowing Dean was hiding so much, and Sam was worried so much about his brother. It left you in the middle, not the best place to be in, and you knew at one point in time, it would bite you in the butt.

"So Y/N. How did you get injured?" Sam asked, breaking the quiet spell. 

"Well, I went to check on Dean, and he was in a trance due to whatever that spell was. But I tried to break him out of it, and hence the new shoulder look." You told him, making light of the situation.

"Well, we're all a mess. Who would have thought going after a simple book would have resulted in something like that. I don't know about you guys, but I could go for a shower, than beer and food." Dean said, and you felt your stomach rumble in response.

"Yeah me too." You answered, but when everyone turned quiet again, you watched as Dean tightened his grasp on the steering wheel, to the point of white knuckles.


	69. The Calm Before the Storm

You supposed what the three of you were doing could be called rest and recovery. At least that's what it seemed like. After retrieving the book, your trio had made it back to the bunker, where both you and Sam had collapsed from exhaustion, soreness, and blood loss. That had been two days ago, and while you were feeling much better, you still lazed about in bed, or the library, never moving far, or saying much. It wasn't because you wanted to be silent, but you needed to observe, because things had gotten a little awkward between the brothers.

Sam had bounced back quickly from his ordeal, drinking orange juice and running seemed to renew his strength quickly. He left the bunker the next day, not returning until late at night. The next morning, you ran into him just as he was planning on leaving again. You had just gotten up, and you knew you looked a fright. Your hair was sticking up everywhere, with just one of Dean's t-shirts hanging almost to your knees your only clothing.

"Morning Y/N!" He chirped at you, and you just stared at him, your eyes almost blank in your foggy state.

"Morning." You mumbled, wanting the coffee you knew was awaiting you in the kitchen.

His smile faltered for a moment, and he stepped closer to you, glancing around the room to make sure you were alone. "Y/N, I've got to go. I have a plan, but I can't work on it here."

That immediately woke you up, and you stopped dead in your tracks. "Wait, a plan? Are you going to talk to Rowena again?" You whispered, your purpose of getting coffee completely forgotten.

He nodded. "Yeah, she's the only lead we have. Her and that book. But don't worry, there's not going to be a way for her to double cross me." He said smugly.

"Sam, she''s a witch!" You argued, your voice climbing at the end, and he shushed you. 

"Y/N, don't you think I know that? But it's a shot worth taking, and I'm careful."

"Give me five minutes. I'll come with, and help you keep an eye on her." You begged, but Sam shook his head, his long hair swinging with the movement. 

"I need you here, keeping an eye on Dean. I know he puts on a good front, but I don't think he's doing as good as he says." He told you, but before you could argue any farther, you heard humming from behind you.

"Damn it, am I the only one awake around here?" You heard Dean grumbling in the hall, before he appeared in the library, and you and Sam took a step apart, trying to look not guilty. Dean's eyes narrowed, before he took a sip of his coffee, his eyes furrowing in on you over the white lip of the cup. "I guess not. What's going on guys?" 

"Sam was just telling me about another one of his errands, and I was asking if I could go." You told him, not missing the dagger of a look Sam sent your way.

"It's nothing important. And I wanted some time by myself. So I said no." Sam replied, heading towards the door, no doubt wanting to get away from the confrontation.

Dean's answer was to take another sip of his coffee, his eyes glancing between the two of you, and you could shoot Sam. Because now, you were going to have to deal with Dean, while Sam ran off. You didn't blame him for wanting to see if Rowena had found a way to save Dean yet, but you hated the fact that you were left behind to lie to Dean.

You watched dejectedly as Sam stepped out of the bunker, before you turned and silently making your way into the kitchen, needing that cup of coffee more than ever now. You had no idea if Dean followed your or not, and you wished he hadn't, because you needed a little time to compose yourself before you were hammered for information.

Stepping up on your tip toes, you reached for your favorite coffee cup, holding it by the tip of your fingers when "So, do you want to tell me what that was about." Came from behind you. You jumped, Dean surprising you, and the cup slipped through your fingers, and you could only watch as it crashed to the ground, white pieces flying everywhere.

"Shit." You cussed, moving to clean it up, and in your haze you stepped right onto a huge piece of the broken pottery with your bare foot. Thinking only of cleaning up the mess, you ignored the pain in your foot, moving towards the broom, leaving a slight trail of blood behind you.

You were working on remote now, your mind telling you to clean the mess up, but Dean grasped you by the arm stopping you. "Y/N, sit down, you cut yourself." He ordered you, leaving no room for argument. You did as you were told, sitting at the table, and he pulled a chair forward, before grabbing a clean towel and the first aid kit you kept in the kitchen. Sitting down in the chair, he grabbed your ankle, pulling it up and placing your foot on his thigh. Running his hand lightly across your instep, you shivered from the touch, as he inspected your cut.

"Well, at least it isn't too deep. Band aid should fix it." He told you, gently wiping the blood away, before placing a band aid across it. Once he was done, you started to move your foot, but he grasped your ankle, holding you still. His hold lessened, his thumb rubbing circles across your ankle. "Can you tell me what this was about? You're never that jumpy." He asked softly, but you could see in his eyes that he was concerned, but also wary. 

"Maybe too much sleep." You offered, feeling his hand tighten around your ankle at your response.

"I don't really think that's it." He answered. "Why don't you try again."

"Dean, I don't know what you're talking about!" You insisted. "I wasn't paying attention, and you startled me. End of story."

Once again, his hand tightened on your ankle, and you yelped in pain, noticing his eyes darken a little. "Dean, stop it, you're hurting me!" 

Even though you tried to pull your foot away, Dean's hand wouldn't budge, and he was staring you down, but his eyes were blank. You were starting to get scared, afraid that he was going to let the Mark control him. "Dean, please." You tried again.

"You see Y/N, I know you very well. And I can always tell when you are lying. And I know that right now, something is going on, and I mean to find out." He promised, his voice deadly quiet.

Once again you tried pulling away, and this time he let you, and you fell in your haste, your hands landing on the broken pottery that hadn't been cleaned up yet. Wincing as it made little slices in your palms, you stood up, backing away from Dean. He didn't seem phased, in fact he seemed calm and collected, but deadly. It was crazy how one minute he was being kind and gentle, cleaning your feet, and the next he was bruising your ankle.

"Dean, it's nothing. I was clumsy." You almost sobbed at him, backing your way to the door, but at your response he moved, and before you could blink he had his hand wrapped around your throat, pushing you up against the wall.

"Tell me Y/N. What's going on between you and my brother? Don't lie to me, I saw the two of you standing close together, you in this skimpy shirt." He growled into your ear, grabbing the neckline of your shirt, and ripping it deeply.

"Dean, it's nothing. I promise." You said, but he didn't like the answer, and he slammed your head back, into the wall. All you could think of was Demon Dean, and your panic took over, and you raised your arms, hitting any spot of Dean you could get a hold of.

"I don't believe you. I know somethings going on, that the two of you are hiding something. I don't know what it is, if you're seeing each other behind my back, but I warn you. Do not hide anything from me." He told you, your hits not seeming to bother him at all. 

You did the only thing you could think of, bringing your knee up, and pushing it, hard, into his groin. The effect was immediate, his hold on your neck loosened, and he took a staggering step back. Taking that as your opportunity, you ran out of the room, the pain in your hands and neck forgotten in your haste to get somewhere safe. 

You rushed to your room, shutting the door and locking it, before sliding down. "It was the Mark." You repeated over and over, knowing it wasn't really Dean. You had known he would crack sometime, but you hadn't really thought that it would be your way.

Stumbling to your feet, you grabbed your phone that was laying on the nightstand, dialing Sam. He picked up on the second ring. "Hey Y/N, what's up?"

"Sam, do whatever you have to do, get whatever help you need. We need to get Dean cured, and now." You told him, your voice rushed and frantic.

"Why? What happened?" He asked, and you told him everything.

"Damn it, I should have brought you with me. Stay in your room, I will be back soon. I have help now, so I won't be gone as much." He told you.

"What help?" You asked, as you made your way into the bathroom, grabbing the antiseptic from the shelf. Dabbing it on, you hissed at the pain.

"I've acquired a couple of new helpers, Cas and Charlie. They will stay here and deal with Rowena, and Charlie will work on trying to decipher it too." He told you.

"As long as they stay safe." You answered, knowing it was useless to say, because no matter what, none of you would ever be completely safe.


	70. Pizza

After getting off the phone with Sam, you stayed in the room, laying on the bed, not sure if you were ready to go out and confront Dean yet. You weren't really mad at him, you knew that he was being controlled by the Mark, but he had still scared the crap out of you. 

It was eerily quiet, you had figured by now that Dean would be pounding on the door, begging for forgiveness, or to at least see how you were. But time passed, you got dressed, but he never came by. Giving up, you grabbed a small knife, tucking it into the back of your pants, before quietly opening the door. Peeking around it, you weren't surprised to see it empty.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly crept to the library, stopping dead in your tracks at the sight in front of you. Dean was sitting at the table, his ankles crossed as he propped his feet on the table, the laptop in his lap. A glass of whiskey was on the table next to him, a half empty bottle beside it. He looked calm and relaxed, as if this morning had never happened.

"Hey Y/N, there you are." He said, noticing you standing at the edge of the stairs. "I think I found us a hunt."

You could only stand there, confused. You had known that with his Mark, his moods could swing, but you hadn't expected him to act as if nothing was wrong. "Dean." You started, moving into the library, staying off to the side, still unsure around him.

"It's not too far from here actually. I think we could get it done, and be back home soon. What do you say?" He asked, his eyes never leaving the laptop.

"What's the case?" You asked, gingerly sitting down across from him, ready to spring up at a moment's notice. Before he could answer, Sam came bounding through the hallway from the garage, surprised to see the two of you sitting together at the table.

"But..what..." He stuttered, staring between the two of you.

"Dean found a case." You explained to him, deciding you would follow Dean's lead and pretend nothing had happened earlier. You weren't sure you wanted to bring it up, and have it explode on you all over again.

"Really?" Sam asked, frowning as he took in the bruises around your neck, and the small cuts on your hands.

"Yeah, it sounds interesting. Some girl had her eyes scooped out. And the room was locked, from the inside. Supposedly, the only witness saw the guy jumping out the window." Dean explained, dropping his feet off the table so he could set the laptop on it.

"So? What's the big deal of jumping out a window?" Sam asked, sitting down next to you, silently asking you if you were okay. You nodded.

"Well, when it's on the third floor, and he walked away. Think that makes it our type of deal." Dean said, standing up. "Let's go."

"I'll be right there." Sam replied, and the two of you watched Dean make his way to the garage. Once he was out of view, Sam turned his full attention on you. "Y/N, what's going on? Last I heard he was attacking you, and now we are planning on going to a hunt."

Keeping your voice low, you answered. "I have no idea. I came out of the room, and he acted as if nothing happened. Either he doesn't remember, or he doesn't want to. Truthfully, I like it better this way."

"But Y/N, look at you." Sam said, gently brushing the hair from your neck, wincing as he looked at your bruise.

"Sam, it's just a bruise. And it was because of the Mark. I don't blame him." You insisted, but you wondered how many times you could say that, before he let it go too far.

"Well, I don't want to leave you alone with him again." He told you, as the two of you made your way to the garage, where Dean was already sitting and waiting in the Impala.

________________________________________________________________________

"I can't believe this case brought us back to the Steins." You muttered, slamming the Impala door as you made your way back into the bunker. Sam and Dean followed suit, the three of you making your way into the library.

You had driven to the building, looked at the room, watched the surveillance video. It was a hunt, but what had surprised the three of you more than anything was the fact that the man jumping from the window had a very familiar, and unique tattoo on his wrist.

"So, what do they want with other people's body parts?" You asked, as you slipped down into one of the chairs at the table.

Sam sat across from you, and Dean sat next to you, his arm casually draped over your arm rest, his fingertips brushing your jean clad thigh. He had made no attempt to apologize, or talk about what had happened earlier in the bunker, and you didn't want to bring it up either. It was the elephant in the room, all of you tiptoeing around it, none of you knowing what would happen if it was brought up.

"I have no idea. But I have no idea where to look next." Sam said, grabbing his laptop and opening it.

You were both startled when Dean suddenly stood up, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair. "I'm hungry. Pizza sound okay?"

You nodded. "Sure, pizza is fine."

"Good, I'll go get a pie, be back." He told you, before leaving the room.

You and Sam shared a look, before he turned back to his laptop, searching for more clues.

It was a good hour before Dean returned, and by then you and Sam were getting worried. You had all the files containing any information of the Steins in front of you, while Sam had his laptop open, looking for any new information that might help you out.

"Sam, he should be back by now." You said for the fifteenth time, chewing on your lip as you glanced at the screen on your cellphone. 

Sam glanced up from the glow of the screen. "You know Dean. Maybe he stopped for a drink on the way. It's too early to worry yet."

You had nodded, turning your attention back to the files, but soon you were worrying again, checking your phone again. Just as you opened your mouth to ask Sam again, you heard the roar of the Impala's engine.

"He's back!" You exclaimed, just as you heard Dean yelling down the hallway. "Little help please!"

You and Sam rushed down the hallway, expecting to see Dean with his hands full of pizza and beer, but what you saw had you tilting your head in confusion. Dean was standing there, a smug smile on his face, a cut gracing his lip. He had his hand wrapped tight in a shirt, one that was hanging on the man from the video earlier. Dean had somehow managed to go out for pizza, and return with the man you had been looking for.


	71. Interrogation

"Dean what the hell?" Sam asked, as you stood there with your mouth wide open.

"This dude, along with a couple of others tried to jump me outside the pizza joint. Guess they decided to make our job a little easier." Dean explained, as he gave the blonde haired man a rough shove down the hallway, and you and Sam could only follow behind. About three steps into the hallway, Sam's phone started going off.

"Guys, I gotta take this. I'll be right back." Sam said, heading back into the garage. You stood there, torn. You wanted to follow Dean, and see what was up with the Stein family. But you also wanted to turn around and see what had Sam so worried.

"Y/N, you coming?" Dean asked, pausing in the hallway for a moment, raising his eyebrow as he looked at you. Giving one more glance back at the way Sam had taken off to, you followed behind Dean.

"Wow, you have her trained real well, don't you." The guy said, earning another rough shove from Dean.

"So, does that mean you two are more than partners? Cuz if that's not the case, I would like to take a chance with her. She's sure a pretty little piece of..." He said, before Dean rammed his head into the door frame.

By this time Dean had made it to the dungeon, and you rushed ahead, opening the fake door. "Ooh, what is this place? It has it's own hidden doors, I love it." The blonde guy remarked, and you heard another groan before Dean followed you in.

You grabbed the handcuffs, and started to pull the chair over, but Dean shook his head. So instead, you attached the cuffs to the chain hanging from the ceiling, and Dean cuffed your prisoner. 

"So, let's start off easy." Dean said, standing at the edge of the devil's trap, his arms crossed. You were standing next to him, but slightly back, leaving him at the center of the interrogation. "How about you give us your name."

"The names Eldon. Eldon Stein. You might have heard about our family. Our family is a legend." He replied, standing there easily, as if he wasn't cuffed to the ceiling.

"Stein, doesn't ring a bell. Maybe you're not as famous as you think." Dean shot back, as you tried to think of if you had ever heard that name before.

Eldon just shrugged. "The real family tree. The name was altered out of necessity. You have chanced upon a lineage with a long and proud tradition . . . And some unwanted notoriety. One of Europe's oldest families. The house of . . . Frankenstein."

Before you could answer, Sam was back, standing beside Dean. "Frankenstein? You've got to be kidding me."

You glanced over at Sam, seeing his eyebrow creased in frustration. Inching over towards him, you whispered, "Is everything okay?"

He subtly shook his head, before your attention turned back to Dean, who was still talking to Eldon. "And why should I believe you? Frankenstein was just a myth. And believe me, we should know, we hunt monsters."

Eldon just shook his head. "Aren't most myths born out of truth? And what else would explain the fact that I was able to jump out of a three story window."

Dean took a step forward, really getting into the argument with the Stein. "So where's the rest of your tribe? Where's Daddy Frankenstein? And why did you want that book so bad?"

"They are so deep underground, and spread so far around the world, you will never be able to find them. That's what's so amazing about our family. One fails, the next one steps right up. We are the greatest Army." He started to say, but his eyes caught a glimpse of Dean's Mark peeking out from his shirt. "If you give me the book, I can tell you how to get rid of the Mark." He tried to trade, and your heart stopped.

Dean stiffened up, glancing back at you and Sam, before glaring at Eldon. You looked at Sam, who seemed frozen in his spot. Just then his phone went off, and he looked down at it, cussing. "I've got to take this." He said, causing Dean to turn on him in disbelief.

"Really Sam? We're in the middle of an interrogation, and you have to answer your phone?" He questioned.

Sam seemed so torn, and you wished you could help him. But you weren't sure how you could step into this sort of situation without making matters worse.

"I know Dean, but this is important." He answered, before heading out the door. 

Dean sighed, before turning back to Eldon. "So, back to our conversation. You know the book was burned, right?"

Eldon smiled widely, and you took a step closer to Dean, as it unsettled you. "The book is eternal, nothing can destroy it. Now hand it over, and we can talk about getting that Mark off of you. Throw in the woman too, and it will be for sure taken care of." He said, before winking at you.

Dean grabbed your hand, pulling you into the empty hallway. "Sam burnt the book, didn't he?" He asked you, staring deeply into your eyes, his own wary.

"I thought I saw him burn it. He tossed it onto the fire." You explained, trying to keep your heartbeat steady, while inside you were freaking out.

His grip on your wrist tightened, painfully, but you couldn't pull it away. "Y/N, I swear if you're lying to me." He threatened, but didn't say anything more. He kept his grip on your wrist, pulling you down the hallway, into the library, where Sam was still on the phone. Sam caught sight of the two of you, his eyes growing wide as he saw Dean's tight grasp on your wrist.

"Listen, I've got to go. You figure something out." He said into the phone, before ending the call. "Hey guys. What's up?"

"Eldon was just telling us something very interesting." Dean started, pulling you closer to where Sam was standing. You watched as Sam gulped, his eyes trailing to you, before turning back to his brother.

"Yeah, what was that?" Sam asked nervously, but was interrupted by the sound of a door slamming shut. Dean let go of your hand, rushing out of the room and down the hallway, with Sam following close behind. You came behind, much slower, rubbing your wrist.

Both Sam and Dean were standing at the entrance to the dungeon, identical looks of utter disgust and disbelief on their faces. "Y/N, I don't think you want to see this." Sam started, but it was too late. You had already caught a glimpse of the mangled appendage hanging from the cuffs, blood slowly puddling on the ground.

"He ripped his own arm off?" You asked in disbelief.

Dean nodded, before turning and giving the two of you a disapproving look. "Yeah, and now he's back out there. I'm going to go see if I can find him. You two stay here. And I think when I get back we need to sit down and have a conversation."


	72. Red

You could only watch in trepidation as Dean stormed out of the library, heading to the garage where you heard to roar of the engine and the squeal of the tires as he drove Baby out into the night.

"What now?" You asked Sam, who shrugged.

You stood there nervously, as Sam sat down at the table, pulling out a book. "Seriously? You're just going to read in a time like this? Dean is going to come back and ream us a good one. Shouldn't we be coming up with a game plan?" You asked him, your voice raising at the end.

"What do you want me to do? Pace the room? Call the whole thing off? Y/N, I know Dean's going to be pissed, but I know I'm doing the right thing!" Sam argued.

"But Sam, this could push him over the edge, and what happens if it does? I don't know if it's a good thing for him to know yet." You pleaded.

Sam placed his hand over the open book, his hazel eyes pleading with you to understand. "Y/N, let's just wait and see what he does when he comes back. He could be so preoccupied with Eldon that he completely forgets about it."

Sighing, you sank down into the seat across from Sam, placing your head in your hands. "I hope so." Was all you could say.

It wasn't too long before Dean returned, wet, weary, and empty handed. "What happened?" You asked him, getting up and grabbing him a glass of whiskey to warm himself with. He sat down next to Sam, sipping his whiskey, seeming calm which scared you more than if he was angry. Because a calm Dean meant he was planning something, or seething inside.

"The son of a bitch left a trail easy enough for anyone to find. I followed it as far as I could, but then it ran dry. Not sure what happened, because he wasn't anywhere nearby." Dean explained, before downing his drink in one gulp, before standing up and moving to the head of the table, standing between you and Sam. You could only stare up at him nervously, waiting to see what he would do next.

"Well you see, I wondered that. But then I got to thinking, it's a good thing that book burnt, because it would be horrible if a family like the Steins got there hands on it. It was burned, wasn't it Sammy?" Dean asked, placing his palms on the table, leaning down so his eye sight was the same level as Sam's.

"Dean, you saw me throw the damn book into the fire." Sam said, and bit your lip, hating the fact that Sam was still lying to his brother, and that you were in the middle of it.

"Well, you see, when you were on your phone, again, Eldon told me something interesting. He said that the book can't be destroyed. Says that it can't be sliced, diced, shredded, burned, drowned. Cannot be destroyed. Ain't that crazy?" Dean said, his voice quiet and deadly.

Before Sam could answer, or you could blab out of fear, Sam's phone went off. All three of you stared at it, Sam's hand inching closer to it. " Sam, you answer that, so help me.." Dean threatened, but Sam ignored him, picking up the phone.

"Hey." He answered, his voice betraying the fact that he was caught in a hard spot. "What?" He said, his voice rising, and you knew something had happened, but you had no clue what. Shutting the call down, he placed his head in his hands, his body tight with despair and frustration.

"Sam, you never burned the book did you. Who was that on the phone?" Dean asked, his tone booking no room for argument.

"No, it was never burned." Sam said quietly, lifting his head up, his eyes red with frustration.

"Tell me everything." Dean ordered, and Sam did, while you sat there, shaking in your seat, wondering how Dean was going to take the news.

"Damn it Sam!" Dean yelled, after Sam had told him everything. "You went behind my back, after I told you not to. You got Y/N involved," Dean said, glaring at you, "And now Charlie!! And she's missing. I can't believe this!" 

You could only watch as Dean took his frustration out on the library, knocking books off the table, shoving a chair out of his way. "Damn it!" He cussed, as a book came hurling dangerously close to your head.

Just then Sam's phone went off again, and you stared at it with horror, wondering how Dean would react to it. "Aren't you going to answer that?" Dean asked, his movements still as he watched his brother, his eyes dark with anger.

Sam picked up the phone, his hand shaky, his eyes widening at the name listed on the screen. "Charlie, where are you?" He asked.

You could tell the instant he heard something was wrong. His face went from hopeful to shocked, to guilt written all over it. "Charlie, if you have the book, give it to them." He ordered, and your heart sunk because you knew who he was talking about. Somehow the Steins had found Charlie.

"Charlie has the book?" Dean roared, striding closer to the table.

Sam ignored his brother, which was quite a feat, answering Charlie instead of Dean. "Charlie, give them your notes then, whatever you have. Just give it to them!" He insisted, before Dean yanked the phone from his hands.

"Listen Charlie, I have no idea what's going on, but listen to me. Give them whatever they want. It's not worth your life." He insisted, nodding his head to the two of you, and you followed him, rushing out of the library, and diving into the Impala, just as Dean hung up the call with Charlie. "Damn it, why won't she listen?"

You stayed huddled in the back seat, not talking, just praying that Charlie would be okay. "So you had the damned book the whole time?" Dean asked Sam.

"It was the only way to find a cure." Sam argued.

"I made it clear how I felt. Why couldn't you have listened? And Y/N, finding out you've been mixed up in this the whole time. Lying to me? How dare you?" He spat at you, his eyes blazing as he glared at you through the rear view mirror.

"Dean, I love you. We all love you. We were just trying to help." You whispered.

"Well look where your helping has got us now. Way to go." He muttered, giving you a look of utter contempt, and you had to hold back a sob.

Dean would have continued berating you and Sam, but he was pulling into the parking lot of Charlie's motel. You stared through the rain spattered window, looking for signs, but you couldn't tell if anything looked out of place. 

Before the car came to a complete stop, Dean was out, rushing up to the door, Sam right behind. You crept behind, your knife drawn as you looked for signs of life. But it was as if the motel was abandoned, the only cars were Baby, and a small hatchback you knew belonged to Charlie. Stepping inside the room, you could only stare in horror at the scene in front of you. Furniture was shattered and scattered everywhere, muddy footprints throughout the entire room. Dean and Sam had already passed through, and you caught sight of both of them looking into the bathroom. By the looks on their faces, you knew you were too late. Having to see for yourself, you slowly crept forward, but both of their large shoulders blocked the view.

Sam turned away, trying not to gag, and he caught sight of you. "Y/N, no. You don't need to see her." He told you, trying to grab you, to hold you back, but you fought. You had to see her, to see for herself that she had died because of you and your ridiculous quest to save Dean.

Sam fought hard, but he was too upset, and you slipped from his arms, rushing forward into the bathroom, stopping at the sight in front of you with a sob. Charlie lay dead in the bathtub, her blood staining the white tile walls. Falling to your knees, you couldn't hold back the tears that came pouring down. Biting your hand you tried to hide your sobs, but they still escaped.

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, crying for a friend lost too soon, before Sam was gripping you by the shoulders, pulling you back. Crashing into his chest, you tried to calm down. With one eye opened, you watched as Dean gently wrapped her in a towel, before picking her up, and carrying her silently out of the room.

"Sam, she's dead, because of us." You wailed, as he guided you out of the room. He didn't say anything, but you felt the hand on your back clench at your words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I'm so sorry for this chapter! I know it was hard losing Charlie the first time, and for a second I considered changing the story line and not killing her off. But...


	73. Cold

Ice. It felt like ice was running through your veins, your entire body shivering, and you couldn't tell if it was from the raining running down your face, the puddle you were currently kneeling in, or the fact that you had just seen the body of a friend laying dead and bloody in a motel tub.

After finding Charlie like that, you had rushed out the door, ignoring the very real threat that the Steins could be nearby. You couldn't stand to be in that room one more second than necessary. Sam and Dean didn't follow after you, and you were glad. You didn't want to see the pain in their eyes, or the blame in Dean's.

It was only moments before Dean came through the door, his arms full of Charlie's body wrapped in one of the hotel's white bed sheets. Sam followed, opening the back door of the Impala, and Dean slid her body inside. Sam came over to you, helping you to your feet, while Dean looked on, his face unreadable.

"Come on Y/N, we need to go." Sam told you, guiding you to the Impala. Sliding into the middle of the front seat, you waited as both brothers slid silently into the car. Dean started the Impala, driving off. You watched the windshield wipers going back and forth, hypnotizing yourself.

It wasn't until you felt the car stop that you realized you weren't back at the bunker. Dean had driven past, farther into the forest, turning onto a rough dirt road. You knew what he meant to do, but just the thought of creating a funeral pyre for Charlie brought tears to your eyes. 

Dean climbed out, slamming the door of the Impala, before opening the trunk and grabbing the tools needed. He still hadn't talked to either you or Sam, and you were beginning to freak out, knowing that he was just bottling it all up inside, feeding the Mark.

"Y/N, why don't you stay here." Sam suggested, as he climbed out to help his brother. You nodded, not wanting to get in the way. He shut the door, and soon you scooted over into his seat, laying your head on the window, your eyes trailing Dean as he methodically worked. You lost track of time, watching Sam and Dean bring large chunks of wood, piling them high, making a long rectangular pyre. You glanced back, wincing as you saw Charlie's cotton wrapped body behind you.

"Charlie, I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that Sam and I got you into this mess. You died because of us, and I will never forgive myself for that. All I can hope is that you're somewhere up in heaven, spending time with your parents, ruining the Angel's technology." You said, feeling stupid for talking to a dead body, but a tiny bit of you felt better.

Shortly after, Dean came over, pulling Charlie from the car, and you climbed out, following behind. He gently placed her on the pyre while you stood next to Sam, who seemed pretty distraught. Placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

As the flames grew higher, Sam cleared his throat before starting to speak. " Charlie. We’re gonna miss you. You were the best. And I’m so sorry..." But Dean cut him off.

"Shut up, you don't get to apologize. Either of you. You got her killed." He said, his voice low, his eyes on the rising flames.

"But Dean, we were just trying to help you." You tried arguing, as you stepped back from the venom that laced his words. You knew he was hurting, but to take it out on you and Sam like that, it was harsh.

"I didn't need help. I told the two of you to drop it." He answered.

You tried placing a hand on his arm, trying to get him to listen to it, but he shrugged it off as if your touch burned him. You tried to not let it bug you, but it hurt. "Dean, we couldn't do nothing. We want to help you, to get rid of this Mark." You explained.

He turned to face you then, his face full of barely controlled anger and sadness. "And because of your stupidity, your unwillingness to listen and do the right thing, Charlie is dead. And that will forever be on your shoulders. It should be one of you up there, not her. This thing with the book? You shut it down, now!" He said before storming off towards the Impala.

You turned to Sam, your eyes full of tears, to see his matching look of pain. "Give it time, he will cool down. He just loved Charlie like a sister." He told you, but you knew he was just trying to placate you. Dean was beyond pissed, and you knew the Mark was feeding off of it, urging his darker side to come out, and that he would not be in the forgiving mood anytime soon.

"Sam, he hates me because of this whole mess. I don't know if we can ever get past this. Even if we ever get the Mark off of him, I don't know if he will ever forgive me." You said dejectedly, watching as Sam's shoulder's slumped. 

"He's Dean. He's hot headed, but soon he will forgive." Sam said, but you could tell he didn't exactly believe his own words.

That evening, the three of you were back in the bunker, each doing there best to forget what had happened. Sam was in his room, no doubt researching, while Dean was in his room, a bottle of whiskey as company. You were in the kitchen, staring at the cupboards, trying to figure out something to make. You weren't hungry, but you needed to stay busy. As you opened the fridge for the fifth time, just staring into it, you heard footsteps. Sam cleared his throat behind you, and you shut the fridge, turning to face him.

"Y/N, he's gone." He said, looking at you sadly.

"Dean? Did he go to a bar or something?" You asked, but you already knew the answer, even before Sam shook his head.

"He said he was going to go rip apart whoever did this." He told you.

Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath you asked. "Did you try to stop him? Or go with him?"

"Y/N, he wants nothing to do with either of us right now. He's in a bad spot, and I didn't want to make matters worse by stopping him."

"So now what? We stop this thing with Rowena and the book, we let Dean go on a murder rampage, and we just sit here, waiting for the results?" You asked, frustration making your voice rise.

"No, that's not what we're going to do. I have a tracker on the Impala. We will keep an eye on him. But right now I need to head back to the warehouse, and talk to Rowena and Cas. You coming?" He asked, and you nodded.


	74. The Code

With Dean gone in the Impala, you and Sam took his piece of junk car that he had hot wired some time ago, using it to travel to the ware house. It was your first time heading there, and you weren't really glad to be going. You weren't looking forward to seeing Rowena again, that witch who helped her son spell you. You were a little worried that you might get carried away, and try to strangle her as soon as you saw her.

It wasn't too long before Sam was pulling up in front of what had once been an old brewery. The sign was still hanging, but only by one chain. The windows were boarded up, and weeds filled the surrounding ground. "How did you find this place?" You asked him, noticing how dark and dreary the place seemed.

"I drove by it. Figured it was the perfect place." Sam explained, as the two of you walked up to the side entrance. Sam opened the door, and stood aside to let you in first, but you shook your head. There was no way you would be the first one in, you wanted Sam at your side. He seemed to understand, because he went first, then stood and waited for you.

"Sam, thank god you're here. Did you find Charlie?" Cas asked, coming forward from the long room that you could just see around the bend in the hallway. Just the mention of Charlie brought tears to your eyes, and Cas must have noticed. 

"What happened?" He asked, and Sam told him, quiet enough that Rowena couldn't hear. You moved away from the hallway, far enough that you could fully see into the room. You saw a long table in the middle of the room, full of books and empty cups. Rowena was currently sitting at the table, her hands cuffed, but her hair still perfectly coiffed. 

"Well look who showed up." She said, looking over at you, her accent as thick as you had remembered. She stood up, making her way over to the three of you, or as far as she could. "What happened to that other red head? We were just beginning to get along? And why did you bring her along?" 

Sam just shook his head at Rowena, done with her attitude. "Charlie's dead. And we are stopping this. It's only going to end in more bloodshed." Sam said, right as his phone dinged. He turned to read the message, leaving you alone with Cas and Rowena.

"Where's Dean?" Cas asked you.

"He took off. The death of Charlie really hit him hard, and he's bent on revenge." You explained to him, feeling a little unsettled as Rowena stared at you.

"So, you're back with the Winchesters and no longer pining for my wee Fergus. I wonder how that happened?" She hinted at. 

You glared at her, but ignored her as Sam placed his hand on your shoulder. "She cracked it." He whispered into your ear, and you turned to face him, stunned.

"What?" You asked.

"Charlie, before she died, cracked the code, and emailed it to me!" He said, and you could tell he was torn.

"But what?" You asked him, knowing he was about ready to say it.

"I promised Dean I would stop this, that no one else would get hurt. But we are so close!" He said, but you could tell he was pleading with you, wanting you to give him the okay to go ahead.

You thought back to Dean, remembering him before the Mark, and how he was now. You wanted that Dean back, not just for your relationship, but because the Mark was eating him alive, and you hated that. "We are so close. I say go for it." You told him.

He nodded, before handing the phone Rowena. "We have to code. Now finish it!" He ordered, but she just sat there. 

"I've changed my mind. I want something else now." She told him, studying her nails. Sam ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"What now?" He asked.

"I want my freedom, and the codex." She told him, and you knew how dangerous that could be. Rowena was a powerful witch, and with the codex she could do many evil things.

"Fine." He ground out, but when he looked over her head, you could tell he was just placating her. 

"Give me time, and you will have your spell." She said, flipping the book open, and you and Sam moved to where Cas still stood.

"So we are still going through with it?" He asked the two of you, and you both nodded. "What about Dean?"

"He's stuck on his revenge. He won't notice anything for a while. And hopefully, by that time, the Mark will be gone." You answered, hoping what you said was true.

Cas nodded. "Shouldn't someone be keeping an eye on him?"

"Yeah. Hey Cas, can you do that? I'm going to stay here, make sure Rowena stays on task. And can you drop Y/N back off at the bunker? She doesn't need to stay here." 

The two of you left the warehouse, and you let Cas drive, surprised to see he handled a car pretty well. When he pulled up to the front of the bunker, you turned in your seat to face him. "Cas, please be careful. Dean's in a bad spot right now, even more so because of Charlie's death. He hates me." You told him, your voice breaking at the end.

Cas reached over, placing a hand over yours. "He doesn't hate you, but the Mark makes him act like he does. I just plan on trailing him, making sure a massacre or something doesn't happen. But I'm afraid I might already be too late."

"Please keep me updated." You pleaded with him, and he nodded. Climbing out of the car, you watched as he drove off, waiting until you could no longer see the tail lights before you went inside.


	75. There Will Be Blood

After Cas had dropped you off at the Bunker, you slipped inside the front door, your mind on the issues you had left behind at the warehouse, and not on the scene in front of you. It wasn't until you were halfway down the stairs that you began to notice that something was wrong.

You were too far down the steps to rush back up them, so you continued down, your footsteps not quiet and careful as you took in the horrible scene in front of you. Various items from throughout the bunker were piled in a heap in the middle of the floor, lamps and glasses lay shattered on the floor. You could hear heavy footsteps and muffled voices down the hall, and you hurried your steps, wanting to be out of the line of sight before whoever was here returned and saw you.

You were almost completely down the stairs when the voices came closer, and you could do nothing but freeze as the man from earlier, Eldon, came striding through the hall, his hands full of Dean's stuff. A teenage boy followed behind him, his stance showing his unease at breaking into the bunker. You stayed still, hoping they wouldn't see you, but of course your luck didn't hold out.

"What do we have here?" Eldon asked, dropping the items that had been in his arms, turning his full attention to you. You didn't even try to answer, you sprinted up the stairs, away from him, throwing the door open, almost tripping over the threshold in your haste to get away. You knew your chance at escaping was slim, but you still had to try. Visions of what he had done to Charlie flashed in your mind, and you stumbled, before rushing on, knowing you didn't want to be captured.

"Little girl, you know you can't run from me. I'm stronger, and I have more endurance in my little pinkie finger than you have in your whole body." He teased, his voice growing closer, and he didn't even sound winded. You ran towards the trees, hoping you could somehow lose him in there. But before you could reach their safety, you felt strong arms wrap around you from the back, pulling you off your feet. His hold was strong and tight, so tight you couldn't breathe, but still you fought, kicking your legs as hard as you could, connecting with his thighs. It was as if you were a fly, because your kicks didn't seem to phase him at all.

"Stop struggling. You won't be able to get away." He told you, but you didn't listen, and you threw your head back, feeling it connect with his nose. "Damn it." He muttered, before raising his fist and slamming it into your jaw, and you knew no more.

________________________________________

Blinking your eyes, you slowly came to, your jaw pounding with pain. Attempting to move your hand to rub it, you found out you were now tied to a chair. Groaning, you looked around, noticing he had carried you back into the bunker, and you were now tied to one of the library chairs. "She's awake." You heard a higher pitched, young voice say from your left. 

Before you could move, a hand grasped your chin roughly, pressing against the sore bone, and you couldn't hold back the groan. "Yes she is. Now what should we do with her?" Eldon asked the boy standing next to him, making the younger man gulp. 

"Cyrus, you're going to have to man up one day. And today is a good day for that change. Now, I know for sure this is Dean's pretty little piece of Ass, and I think we should have some fun with her. Now, do you want to start carving? Or should I?" Eldon asked Cyrus, while you struggled against the ropes.

"I..." Cyrus stuttered, and Eldon let go of your hand, holding out an evil looking knife. 

"Last chance Cyrus. Either you carve her up, and I tell your Dad how well you did, or I do it, and I get all the glory." Eldon teased, running the knife down your arm, hard enough to leave a thin line of blood in it's wake. You hissed at the pain, which seemed to please Eldon.

"See, it's so easy, and so much fun." He told the teenager, enjoying the way Cyrus' face paled at the sight of blood. "How are you even a Stein? You can't handle the sight of blood! Why don't you sit back, and I will show you how it's done."

"Dean will be back, and he will kill you." You threatened, but it didn't seem to phase him at all.

"Why isn't he here to protect you? Maybe he doesn't care about you after all." He goaded, running the side of the blade down your cheek.

"He's busy killing your family." You spat, knowing you said the wrong thing when his blue eyes darkened like the sky in a thunderstorm.

"I don't think so. The Stein's are a strong family. We always prevail." Eldon argued, before plunging the knife deeply into your thigh, and you couldn't hold back the garbled cry the pain caused. Pulling the knife out, he watched as your blood slowly pooled on top of your jeans, before running down to stain the floor. "Maybe I'm doing this wrong. Maybe I should torch this place down, and then bring you back to HQ. We could use a pretty girl like you for spare parts."

At this point you didn't really care what he did, the pain in your thigh was too excruciating for you to focus on anything else. Black dots filled your vision, and you knew it was only a matter of time before you passed out from blood loss and pain.

"Really Eldon? Trashing the place and torturing the girl? I would have thought better of you." A familiar voice said from beyond the room, and you fought hard to focus. You were able to make out Dean, standing near the staircase, his clothes and face bloody.


	76. The Mark's Control

Your heart in your chest, you focused on Dean. You noticed immediately the blood covering his shirt and face, knowing he had been successful in part of his revenge. But the main person he was after was here, and you knew nothing, not even you, would get in his way of extracting it.

"Dean-O, I wasn't sure you would be able to make it. I thought we were going to have fun without you." Eldon said, coming to stand behind you, holding the knife to your neck. Dean didn't even more, or seemed phased by the fact that you could die at any second.

"Well, I've already had my fun. Probably wasn't that great for your family." Dean hinted at, and you felt the knife tighten against your neck even farther, nicking the skin as Dean's words sunk in.

"What did you do?" He asked Dean, his voice deepening with anger, and a little bit of fear.

"You killed my family, I just returned the favor." Dean answered calmly, taking a step forward.

"You mean that red haired girl? Wasn't her name Claire or something?" He goaded Dean, and you watched him tense.

"Eldon, let's go." Cyrus pleaded, but Eldon shook it off.

"We aren't done yet." He argued.

Dean took another step forward. "Let her go, and I will let you die quickly." He said, his eyes dark with blood lust. 

You couldn't see what Eldon did behind you, but you felt him draw the blade across your neck drawing more blood before placing the tip of the knife against your chest, digging just the tip in, earning a moan from you. "I don't think so. I think I will kill you, then take her back home with me."

Before you could even blink, Dean had his gun out, and was pressing the trigger, a bullet zipping past your head. You felt the knife slide up your body, slicing through your shirt, barely nicking your skin, before slicing more deeply into your shoulder. As you fought the pain, you heard the thud as Eldon fell lifeless to the floor. Taking deep, gulping breaths, you peered up at Dean, seeing his gun still in his hands, his eyes glassy but void of the usual life you saw in them.

"Dean, untie me." You begged, but his eyes trained on movement behind you, and you knew he was now focused on Cyrus. You felt bad for the boy, he had shown nothing but remorse at being in the bunker, and you had a feeling he wanted nothing to do with his families business.

"Please, sir, let me go. I won't do anything, I promise." Cyrus begged from behind you.

"You're a part of their family. You need to die." Dean said, only seeing in black and white.

"Dean, please. He was a pawn. Let him go." You pleaded, but before you could beg anymore Dean pressed the trigger again, shooting down the helpless boy. You sobbed in your chair, heartbroken over the life that he never lived.

"I had to. He was a part of their family." Dean repeated, just as another figure came into the room. You recognized the familiar trench coat instantly, and you relaxed a little bit, knowing you had an ally. 

"Dean, what did you do?" Cas asked, walking past him, staring down sadly at the lifeless body of Cyrus.

"What needed to be done. Why are you here Cas?" Dean asked, never moving from his spot, except for putting his gun away.

Cas pulled out his angel blade, cutting you free from the rope, supporting you as you attempted to stand up, the wound in your thigh screaming under the pressure. You shook your head, and you sat back down, taking a moment to catch your breath. 

Cas placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder before moving to stand in front of Dean. "Dean, we need to talk." He told him, but Dean moved to shove past him. Cas placed a hand on Dean, trying to stop him, and you stood up, hobbling over to where they were standing.

"Dean, please stay. Let's talk about this, work things out." You pleaded, and he turned on you, his eyes full of disgust. 

"Let's talk? Let's talk about you going behind my back. Let's talk about you and my brother getting Charlie killed." He growled, and when you limped forward, he swung his arm out, his hand connecting with your cheek. With your sore leg you couldn't hold yourself up, and you fell to the ground, moaning as you slammed into the floor.

"Dean." Cas threatened, and Dean turned on him.

"What Cas? You know what? Just leave me alone." Dean ordered, shoving Cas out of the way, but he bounced back as you slowly came back to your feet, your leg throbbing. 

"No Dean, we care about you. We want to help you." You told him which seemed to infuriate him even more.

"I don't need your help!" He roared, flinging his fist back, letting it fly at you, smashing into your already bloody shoulder. The force of his punch threw you back, your lower back smashing into the edge of the table, and you cried out at the pain.

"Dean, leave her alone. She loves you, and is trying to help you. She doesn't deserve your anger." Cas told Dean, pulling him to face him.

Dean chuckled, a sound that was deep and sounded nothing like your Dean. "She deserves everything. She's always been a pain in my side, causing so much trouble. I wish I had never rescued her from Crowley. Or better yet, I wish I had never seen her at that club." He said, and you felt as if a knife was plunged into your heart, twisting as he spat each words.

"Dean, you don't mean that. It's the Mark talking." Cas said, giving you a glance, and you could tell his words were more for you than for Dean.

"Does it matter anymore?" Dean asked, before throwing a punch at Cas. You could only lay there and watch as Dean pummeled Cas. Hit after hit, he threw at Cas, and Cas took it, his face turning bloody and broken, but still he wouldn't fight back. 

Needing to help your friend, you stumbled back to your feet, your movements slipping in the blood that had pooled on the ground. Grabbing the nearest thing you could find, you held the metal statue over your head, ready to clobber Dean in the head with it, to get his attention away from Cas. But the statue was heavy, and you were weak, and instead of hitting his head, it bounced off of his shoulder, annoying him more than anything. 

"You guys don't get it, do you. I don't care if you live or not. You mean nothing to me." Dean growled, swiping his hand backwards at you, connecting with your cheek. With how unstable you were, you lost your balance quickly, falling backwards, and the last thing you felt before blackness overtook you was the sharp pain of the back of your head connecting with something hard, and sharp.


	77. Giving Up

You came to with a start, your heart thumping loudly in your chest as flashbacks of what had just happened played through your mind. Glancing around wildly, you noticed instantly that you were no longer in the torn up library of the bunker. You were laying on the bed in the room you shared with Dean. You were no longer in your bloody clothes, one of Dean's t-shirts was the only thing covering your bruised and cut up skin.

Your entire body hurt. From the torturing from Eldon, to the attack from Dean, your body was completely black and blue, your thigh throbbing from the gash in it. You had no idea who brought you here, or cleaned you up, or what happened to Cas or Dean. 

Needing to use the bathroom, you started to slide off the bed, the movement making you groan and lay back. "Damn it." You muttered.

It was then the door slowly opened, and Sam poked his head inside. When he saw you laying there, awake, he came inside, perching at the edge of the bed. His eyes were dark and somber as they took you in, and you knew you must look a sight.

"How are you feeling?" He asked you.

"Like I was hit by a bus." You muttered. "But Sam, what happened?" 

Before he answered you, he helped you up into a sitting position, handing you a glass of water. Taking a sip, you felt a little bit better, the water quenching your thirst.

"What do you remember?" He asked you, sitting back down on the bed next to you.

"I remember Cas dropping me off, then getting caught by Eldon. He tied me to a chair, hurt me a little bit. And then Dean showed up." You started to say, but when you got to the part about Dean you froze. Just thinking about how he had been covered in blood, his eyes void of life had you pulling the blanket up farther, your body shivering.

"It's okay." Sam comforted you, and you went on.

"He was Dean, but the Mark had affected him something fierce. He was dull, as if his life had been snuffed out of him and only the Mark remained. He didn't even seem to care if I lived or died. All he wanted was revenge." You told him.

"I feared his quest for revenge would only feed the Mark. I hate that I was right." Sam answered.

"He shot Eldon, and I pleaded with him to leave the boy alone, but he didn't care. He shot him, then Cas showed up. We tried to help him, to talk him down from wherever he was. But he was too far gone, and he attacked both me and Cas. It wasn't pretty. Where is he?" You asked.

Sam sighed, resting his head in his hands. "He's gone. I have no idea where. He found the tracker, took it off. Rowena is translating the book, but I don't know what to do." He admitted.

"Sam, we can't have Dean running around. Who knows what he will do, who he will turn on." You told him, tears filling your eyes at the look he gave you.

"Don't you think I don't know that? I know at any moment he could kill someone else, but I don't know what to do. Dean's good at hiding when he wants to." Sam told you, his voice cracking with emotion.

You felt bad that Sam had all of this on his shoulders. He didn't deserve to have to worry about you, his brother, and everything else. You leaned forward, ignoring all the aches and pains that accompanied the movement, wrapping your arms around him, pressing your head against his back. "Sam, I know you are doing the best you can. Hell, you're even working with an evil witch to save him!"

"Yeah, and what good has that gotten me? A royally pissed off brother and a dead friend." He muttered.

"Sam, you won't give up. It isn't in you to give up on your brother." You told him.

You felt him sigh, and you leaned back, so he could look at you again. "And you? You won't give up on Dean either, will you? After everything the two of you have been through, you can't let something like this get to you."

You sighed, knowing at some point this conversation would come to this. However, you weren't ready to answer it, not yet. "I don't want to give up. I really don't. But I'm so tired, and scared. Sam, you didn't see him, his eyes, his lack of caring. I'm not sure how many more times I can take Dean knocking me down." You admitted, tears in your eyes at thought of letting Dean down.

Sam stared at you, his eyes full of pain and sadness. "It's your choice Y/N. And I'm not going to be upset at whichever one you end up picking. If you decide you can't, then I want you to know you have a home here as long as you need it. But if you decide you want to help, there will always be a place by my side. You're like a sister to me, and I will always love you, not matter what you pick. But think about it, because I will be at the warehouse, hoping for your help." He told you, standing up and giving you a sad smile before opening the door.

"Sam." You said, stopping him. "Thank you. I love you too. You're the best friend I could have asked for. But right now, I think I need some time on my own, to think things through." You told him, the twitching of his cheek letting you know he had heard you.

Without another word, he left you alone in your room, and you curled into a ball, the pain a welcoming reminder that you were alive. It wasn't only your body that was bruised, but your heart. You loved Dean, more than anything in this world. The two of you had been through so much, had fought so hard to stay together, that you felt horrible for staying back. But then you remembered the sight of his eyes, and how he had almost allowed Eldon to kill you, and you weren't sure you could face that Dean again. 

Tears falling down your cheeks, you tried to calm your breathing, knowing you shouldn't make any decisions while this emotional. But you knew, come morning, you would have to decide. Do you give up on Dean, your only chance at love? Or do you fight to get the man you loved back, even if that means your death in the end? Because the Dean that beat you, and Cas, wouldn't hesitate in killing you.


	78. Decision Made

"Y/N, I will be back for you. And when I do come back I will finish what I started." Dean whispered as he ran a knife along your cheek, but before you could feel the pain you woke with a start. Sitting straight up in bed, your heart beating out of your chest, you tried to catch your breath. It wasn't the first time you've had a dream like that. They had ended a long time ago, after Dean had been cured from being a Demon. But seeing him so cold hearted, his aggression towards you must have brought them back.

Trembling from the fear of remembering Dean's cold and lifeless eyes, you slid out of bed, the tile cold on your bare feet. Using one of Dean's old flannels as a robe, you slipped it on before making your way into the darkened hallway of the bunker. You weren't sure if Sam was even back at the bunker, he was spending most of his time at the warehouse, forcing Rowena to translate a spell.

It was two days after that conversation with Sam, and you were still on the fence. At one point you had given up on, intent on staying as far away from Dean as possible. Hell, you had even started packing a bag, the decision to move as far away from the bunker as possible cemented in your mind. But as you carried the heavy bag towards the garage, nagging thoughts kept your mind full and your feet from moving. How could you turn your back on Dean, now when he needed you the most? Dean had always been there for you, saving you, loving you, even when you tried to push him away. What type of person would you be if you just walked away and didn't try to save him.

Of course there was the argument, he's almost killed you, multiple times. If you did try to find him, and help him, what's to say that you didn't end up on a funeral pyre like Charlie? 

You're bag was still packed, laying on the dresser, tormenting you. Telling you life would be so much easier if you just grabbed it and walked away. You could leave behind the life of hunting, settle down, find a nice nine to five job. 

Sam hadn't bugged you again, giving you plenty of space and time to make up your own mind, but when you had happened to run into him when he was leaving the kitchen, his look was one of pity and disappointment. It hurt, to see your friend disappointed in you. You had given him a shy smile before making your way into the kitchen, looking for a bottle of whiskey. Whiskey, or any type of alcohol had been your only constant, helping you sleep. It couldn't keep the nightmares from Dean away, but it did offer you the oblivion you were so desperately trying to find.

But this morning, things felt different. You hadn't used alcohol last night to sleep, and even though the nightmares of Dean had still come, you weren't as fazed by them. Your packed bag on the dresser didn't tempt you quite as much, and you knew the time had come to finally make a decision.

You could see a light shining from in the kitchen, and you glanced around the corner, a little relieved to see Sam sitting at the table. What you didn't like was the fact that his head was in his hands, his shoulders stooped, an empty coffee cup in front of him. He looked utterly defeated, and you felt bad that you had been so self centered that you hadn't even considered what he was going through.

"Sam?" You questioned quietly, and he shot up, a little embarrassed to be found like that.

"Hey Y/N. Don't worry, I'm just heading out." He mumbled, going to stand up, but you shook your head, placing your hand on his shoulder.

"Stay. Please." You requested, and he listened.

Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you sat down next to him, letting the strong aroma of the coffee soothe you. "Sam, I just want to say how sorry I am. I haven't been a good friend to you, or a good girlfriend to Dean."

"But Y/N, what you've gone through." He interrupted you.

"So? You've gone through so much. Losing a brother, getting him back, but as a Demon. Having to do the cure, and now dealing with the Mark. I'm sorry I haven't been here to help you out as much as I should. But that's all going to change." You told him, watching his eyes widen in surprise. 

"Y/N, you don't need to. Besides, Rowena's translated the spell, and I'm not sure we will ever be able to find all the ingredients. And I haven't been able to find Dean at all. You would just be joining a losing battle." He argued, but you could see a slight shimmer of hope in his eyes at having someone else on board.

"She did? Why didn't you tell me? Oh never mind, I know why. But what are the ingredients? And, maybe I can do some research, try to find Dean for you. Please, let me help." You pleaded.

You could see Sam was ready to have you on board, but he was still a little hesitant. "Are you sure? Because I remember you saying you weren't sure you could do this anymore. And I saw your bag all packed and ready to go. I don't want you doing this just because of me."

"I'm sure. I've used the past couple of days to think, and to give myself time to heal. And I've come to the conclusion that I don't want to give up on Dean. I want to fight to get him back. Because that's what he would do for me. And I don't want to give up on you, and helping you. You're my friend, and I can't imagine life without you." You told him, watching as his face lit up in a huge smile. He stood up and came over to you, pulling you into a deep hug.

"Thank you so much." He whispered into your hair. "I really need to get back to the warehouse. Do you want to come with me?" 

"Sure. And on the way you can explain all about this spell, and what these mysterious ingredients are." You told him.

He nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Why don't you go hop in the shower, and get ready to go. Because Y/N, you need one." He teased you, pinching his nose as if you stunk. Which you probably did, because you hadn't had much energy to take care of yourself lately.

You bounded out the hallway, your energy once again refreshed after making a decision. You knew it was the right decision, and you were certain it was the one you were planning on making all this time. You had just needed time for yourself, to heal. You knew you weren't completely healed, it would take a long time for that. But the first step was right in front of, and that was helping Sam get all the ingredients for the spell.


	79. Rowena's Spell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update!

You felt much better after your shower. Sam had been right, your hair was stringy, and you were developing a certain odor that needed to go. You knew Sam was waiting for you, but you still took your time, enjoying the warm spray as it splashed over you.

Feeling clean, you stepped out, the shower doing wonders for your attitude. You felt much better, more confident that things could go in your way, and you had a slight bounce to your step as you made your way into your room, changing into a faded pair of jeans and a long sleeved gray t-shirt. Lacing your boots, you threw your hair in a loose braid before grabbing a soft blue and gray flannel. 

Sam was waiting by his hot wired car, a smile on his face when you finally showed up. "I wasn't sure if you had changed your mind or not. But hey, you do smell better." He teased, and you slapped him on his shoulder.

"Shut up." You sassed back. "Your idea of a shower was a good one. I didn't want it to end." You answered, climbing into the grungy car. "Hey Sam, next time you hot wire a car, can you pick something a little nicer?"

He gave you a look, squinting his eyes at you as he climbed into the driver's seat. It had been too long since the two of you had teased each other like this, and it was nice. It wasn't taking away the fact that you were dealing with an evil witch, and your Mark wearing boyfriend could be committing a massacre at any moment. But it lightened your mood, making it easier to deal with the things that were to come.

The ride to the old brewery was short, and soon you were marching inside, your stomach churning at the thought of getting back in action again. Only minutes earlier you had been brave, talking the talk, but at the thought of coming into contact with Rowena you were partly ready to turn tail and run.

Sam, however, was behind you the entire way, giving you no choice but to make your way into the damp and stinky room. Rowena was busy at the table, writing away, while Cas stood across from her, his arms crossed, a look of disdain on his face. He had healed himself from all of his Dean inflicted wounds, and you wanted to hug him and thank him for trying to protect you from Dean.

Rowena must have sensed you, because she looked up, a sly smile on her face. She was a little more ruffled than the last time you had seen her. Her black dress was creased, smudges of dirt along the hem and cuffs. Her hair was losing part of it's curls, but still shiny and clean. Her make-up was still perfect, and you wondered if she used a spell to keep herself looking like that. "Well, hello my dear." She purred, standing up and making a step towards you. 

At her voice, Cas stood up, giving you a smile. "Y/N, I'm glad you came. How are you feeling?" He asked you, striding over to stand in front of you.

"Much better." You answered, staying close to him and Sam, your previous interactions with Rowena making you weary around her.

"What happened? Were you attacked my dear?" Rowena asked, moving forward, getting stopped by the shackles around her hands.

"None of your business." Sam smarted off to her. "Now, have you figured out how we are going to get the ingredients?"

She took a step back, acting hurt at his words. "Sam, I was just worried for the poor girl. Did Dean do this?" She asked, but the three of you ignored her.

"I have your final ingredient." Another voice said, one that brought chills down your spine, and you really wished you had stayed back. You weren't sure what would happen now, or if you would take off running.

"Crowley?" Sam asked, turning to face the door where Crowley was currently standing.

"The one and only." He answered, and it was then he noticed you standing in Sam's shadow. "Y/N." He said, his voice deep and breathy. 

"Hi Crowley." You mumbled, taking a step toward Sam.

Cas looked at Crowley. "I take it you have all the ingredients."

Crowley shrugged. "Almost. But I have the hardest one."

You were entranced, your gaze moving between Crowley and his mother. "No, it's not. You see, I was able to dig deep, and I found out that you in fact, did love one thing." He answered, snapping his fingers, and a tall, golden haired Adonis walked through the door, wearing a grease spattered apron and a confused look on his face.

"Whose that?" You asked Cas, who shrugged.

Rowena looked at the man, confusion evident on her face. "Him? I've never met the man in my life." She stuttered. 

"I beg to differ. When you had run from Scotland, you were taken care of by a peasant family. A family who had a sick boy. You saved him, used a spell. Well here he is." Crowley told her, a gleam to his eyes at the fact that he had outmaneuvered his manipulative mother.

"Oskar?" She asked, shell shocked.

He came forward, his gaze softening towards Rowena as he realized who she was. She pulled him into her arms, squeezing him tight in a hug. You stared as she looked up, her eyes full of tears, before she raised a knife. Holding a gasp in, you could only watch as you stabbed him in the neck. He stiffened in shock, before she leaned him over so he could bleed into her bowl. "I'm so sorry." She kept muttering, rubbing his back as his life slowly left him.

Once he was gone, she pushed him back, and he fell with a plop to the floor. "There, that's done. Now what?"

"I need to go get the other two items." Crowley stated, turning to leave.

Sam stopped him. "Will you be able to?" He asked, and Crowley raised his eyebrow at him. "I'm the King of Hell. Of course I can get the other two items." He said before disappearing.

Once he was gone, Cas turned to Sam. "Now what? Are you going to wait here for the other ingredients?"

Sam looked at you, biting his lip in thought. "No. Y/N and I are going to go try to find my brother." He said, looking at you for confirmation, and you nodded. You weren't sure what you would find when you found him, but you needed to see him, to try and help him.


	80. Tracking Dean

You kept tapping at the space button, each click grating on your nerves, but you had no idea what else to do. Everywhere else you had looked had turned up dead ends, and you were beginning to lose hope that you would ever find Dean. 

After you had returned from your excursion to see Rowena and her needs for her spell, Sam and you had once again returned to the bunker. Sam had sat down at one of the tables, his dad's journal in front of him, his cell phone glued to his ear as he dialed each and everyone of the hunters that they knew of. You could only watch as his eyes grew darker, his shoulders slumping as each phone call came back with the same negative answer. 

Without saying a word, you stood up and poured him a glass of whiskey, setting it down in front of him. He glanced up briefly at you, his hazel eyes somber and full of frustration. "We will find him." You told him, but you weren't sure either of you believed it.

Sitting down at your own table, you had pulled over Sam's laptop, opening up the search engine, but your mind drew a blank. What did you type when looking for your dangerous, and cursed boyfriend? You had started easy, looking for murders that had happened recently. After over an hour of going though page after page of gruesome death stories, you knew this was no way to find Dean. Even if some looked like they could be by Dean's hand, it wasn't enough to go by. 

"Found anything?" Sam asked from behind you, startling you enough that you jumped in your chair, almost spilling the lukewarm beer that sat forgotten beside you. You shook your head as he walked by, another glass of whiskey in his hand. "Neither have I."

Using a trick that Sam had taught you, you started hacking into the databases of police departments in surrounding towns, hoping that Dean wouldn't have gotten too far away by now. Starting at the closest one, you looked for anything out of the ordinary, clicking through each police report. It was a long and torturous job, one that didn't seem to be doing any good.

Finally deciding to give up for a little bit you stood up. It was either give up for now or throw the laptop through the room, and you were pretty sure Sam would take offense at that. Stomping into the kitchen, you opened the fridge, frowning at the selection of food in front of you. Or lack of selection. The shelves were mostly bare, and what happened to be on them was covered in mold. Wrinkling your nose in disgust, you grabbed the trashcan, dumping everything into it, before grabbing a simple granola bar from the cupboard, along with a Pepsi. Feeling a little more settled after something in your belly, you grabbed another bar for Sam before heading back out into the library.

You stopped short when you saw that Sam was on the phone, and he actually seemed a little hopeful. Tossing him the granola bar, you perched onto the edge of the table, listening to his side of the conversation.

"So, you say Dean is working a hunt?" Sam replied, and your heart started pounding faster at the thought that you might have finally found him.

"What? It was your hunt, and he took over?" Sam asked, and you shrugged. It seemed like something Dean would do, especially with the Mark controlling him.

"Yeah, he's not in a good place right now." Sam said, before listening to the other end once again. "Yeah, I get it. I will head up there. But do me a favor. Just drop the hunt, let Dean have it. Please." He said before hanging up and turning to face you.

"Someone saw Dean?" You asked him, waiting until his mouth was empty of the granola bar. 

He nodded. "Yeah, one of my Dad's old hunting buddies. Said he had this case, and Dean showed up, taking over without asking. Now Dean's acting like a total dick to him, the police and the victims." 

You sighed, knowing this couldn't be good. "But he hasn't killed anyone yet?" You asked, looking for a bright spot in this dark chapter of your life that seemed to be happening right now.

"Not yet. But it doesn't sound good. At least now we know where he is." Sam said, standing up and you joined him.

"And where is that?" 

"About four hours from here. We need to get going, stop him before he hurts anyone." Sam said, and you nodded. 

"I have a bag packed. I'm ready to go." You said, leading the way to the garage.

______________________

The road trip was quiet and awkward, nothing like the usual road trips with either of the Winchesters. Both you and Sam were busy thinking about what you would find ahead of you. You had so much pent up energy and emotions, that your leg couldn't stop bouncing, and you saw Sam look at it multiple times but never saying a word. You were worried, and more than a little scared. You had wanted to find Dean, especially with the cure so close to being completed. But now that that time was coming, you weren't sure you were ready for it.

The last time you had seen Dean, he had been dangerously close to killing you, and Cas. You were afraid that he would take one look at you and try to end your life once again. You were also afraid he would go after Sam once again, okay with killing his brother if that meant he was free. And you weren't sure you would be enough help to stop him if he did try that. Because you weren't sure, no matter how evil he became, that you could kill Dean. You didn't want that asked of you.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, jolting you out of your sad and depressing thoughts.

You shook your head, knowing you could tell Sam anything. "Not really. I'm scared. Scared he will try to kill both of us, that one of us will have to try to stop him, or kill him."

Sam sighed, before patting you on the shoulder. "Don't worry. I know the Mark is controlling him, but deep down, I know Dean needs the cure. He wants it. We just have to make him realize it." 

You nodded, watching as Sam drove the pitted road to the crime scene. You knew you probably wouldn't find Dean there, but Sam's hunter friend had said to meet him there. You were in the forest, and a small clearing was in front of you, a small cabin sitting in the middle. Sam pulled up to a cop car, looking around in confusion. "I would have thought they would have called off the police." Sam muttered, more to himself than anything.

You nodded, moving to slide out of the car, but Sam stopped you. "Why don't you stay here. We both know Dean's probably not in there. I'll go get some information, and then we will be gone."

You nodded, needing the time to compose yourself. Something seemed wrong, horribly wrong, and you were glad you didn't have to go into that small cabin.

Police officers were moving back and forth, giving you curious glances but leaving you alone. It was about ten minutes later when Sam came back out, his face ashen and you could tell he was shaken to the core.

"Sam what is it? What happened?" You asked him as he slumped into the chair. He leaned back, closing his eyes, his entire body showing how stressed he was.

"Dean, he..." Sam started, but whatever it was, he seemed to have trouble finding the words.

"It's alright." You said, not wanting to push him, but his eyes snapped open at your words, and he turned to glare at you, his anger directed your way for the first time you could ever remember.

"No it's not." He yelled. "My brother is out there, killing people, and I can't seem to stop him! Do you want to know what happened? Dean was here, and so were the vamps, along with Fred, the other hunter. Dean toyed with the vamps, who were holding Fred hostage, and in the end he got Fred killed. He then proceeded to kill the vamps, right in front of the hostage, never giving a crap about her."

"Sam." You started, but never finished. You weren't sure what to say, you were too horrified but what he had just told you.

He slumped forward, his head resting on the steering wheel. He started talking, and you could barely make out his words. "I think it's too late. I think my brother's gone for good."


	81. Surrendering

You couldn't believe the words that came out of Sam's mouth. After everything he had been through, how many times he had fought for Dean, you couldn't believe he was thinking about giving up now. You had spent many a night, drinking beers and listening to stories the two brothers spun. Stories from before you had joined them. Stories of choosing each other over anything, including the world. You had never imagined that type of commitment, the type of love it would take to act that way, but yet you had seen it time and time again in front of you.

You hadn't minded their unusual relationship. In fact, you had always told Dean to chose Sam. If a monster, or some other circumstance would make him chose between the two of you, you had made him promise to chose Sam. You couldn't imagine splitting them up.

But yet, here Sam was, his eyes full of lost hope, and heart break, and it was killing you. "Sam!" You said loud enough to snap him out of it. "We can't give up now."

He shook his head. "But what can we do? He doesn't want to be found, and he's killing people."

"But the cure." You started, but he stopped you.

"Who knows if the cure will even work. How can we even trust Rowena? Maybe she's just feeding us false information, and this is a spell to help her out." Sam argued.

"Stop. Just stop." You pleaded, not able to take Sam's negativity. "I can't take this. Not from you."

He didn't respond. Instead he turned the key in the ignition, driving away from the crime scene, his shoulders slumped, and you knew you hadn't been able to talk him out of his sour mood. It was really hard, seeing him like this, and for a moment you felt yourself leaning his way, feeling despondent. It was easy to feel this way, especially after the way Dean had almost killed you. But as the trees blurred past while Sam drove down the road, you told yourself it wasn't the right thing to do. You needed to have hope, because without it, Dean was lost. And the thought of nobody trying to help Dean, to believe in him was enough to tick you off.

Deciding you were going to let Sam stew in his own juices for a while before you tried again, you stared out the window, letting your own thoughts run where they wanted. They were mainly centered around Dean, and how you had met him. You could still remember seeing those intense green eyes staring down at you, feeling your heart almost jump out of your chest as your hand touched his. Then there was the time he had asked you to join them, hunting and living at the bunker. He had seemed so nervous, and a little afraid that maybe you would say no. He had stood there, his feet shuffling, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Sam had just shaken his head, and left the room, leaving the two of you alone. You were confused, at first, fearing the worst. But when he had finally been able to stutter the words out, you were ecstatic, jumping into his arms, knocking him backwards onto the bed.

Then there was that one hunt, where you had almost been werewolf food. The two of you were trying to take a pack down, and you had thought you had gotten them all. You stood around celebrating with Dean, when his face turned pale, and and his mouth opened, but no sound came out. You felt the swoosh of air behind you before the claws slid into your shoulder. But before it could do anymore damage, you heard the shot, and then a thud behind you. Instantly Dean had taken you in his arms, gently cradling you as he carried you to the Impala. The entire time he mumbled words, some too hard to make out, but what you could sounded like he was cussing himself out. As soon as he slid you carefully into the backseat, you grabbed his hand, pulling you into the backseat with him. "Dean, wait." You had told him, and he looked at you, fear in his eyes.

"Y/N, I need to get you back to Sammy. He's better at stitches, and I don't want you losing too much blood." He started, but you stopped him.

"Dean, it's just a couple of scratches, please don't tell me you're blaming yourself." You pleaded with him, and his down turned gaze was enough of an answer. "I don't blame you. We both missed that one. Can't we call it even?"

He looked up then. "Even? You could have died back there! No way are we even! Do you know what it felt like, watching the woman I love, seeing a werewolf behind her, and not able to react quick enough?" He almost yelled in your face, but you were still stuck on one word.

That had been the first time he had said the love word, and while it hadn't been the most romantic, you still cherished it. 

"Y/N!" Sam's voice shook you out of your thoughts, and you looked his way to see what was up. He had stopped in the middle of a road, with small cottage like motel rooms across from him. It was dusk, so it was really hard to see, but you could see what had him so excited.

"That's Baby!" You exclaimed. "But wait, I thought you were giving up." You chastised him, hoping he had changed his mind.

He shook his head, looking ashamed and guilty. "I was upset back there. It's just been so rough lately. But I can never give up on my brother. Not when he needs me now more than ever."

You sighed in relief. "Thank god. You had me worried that I might have to slap some sense in to you. Now let's go see if Dean's in the room." You ordered, and Sam pulled his car over to the side. Climbing the little hill to the room, you could feel your hands start to shake, your palms sweating a little. You were beyond excited that you might have found him, but you were also afraid of what you might see.

Passing by the Impala, you could only stare at it. It was covered in a thick layer of dust and grime, slight scratches marring the once shiny black paint. Inside was about the same, full of dust and empty wrappers and beer bottles. It made you sick, to see your favorite car, and Dean's pride and joy treated this way.

Sam was already at the door, bypassing the Impala all together. He had his picklocks out, ready to shimmy open the door, but when his hand gently touched it, it swung open. You came to stand beside Sam, mouth gaping open at the scene in front of you. 

Dean was nowhere to be found. The room was completely trashed. Furniture was ripped or thrown across the room. Picture frames were smashed, or hanging crooked on the wall. The TV was shattered, laying on it's front in the middle of the room. Beer bottles lay everywhere. You gingerly move into the room, wincing as you saw the smashed mirror in the bathroom, caused by a fist. 

"Sam, what happened in here?" You asked quietly, even thought you already could guess. 

"I'm not sure. But look at this." He told you, holding up keys and a piece of paper. You grabbed the paper, your heart breaking at the words. "Take good care of my babies, Sam. Both of them." You knew he meant you, and his car.

"What is he going to do?" You asked, not really expecting an answer.

Sam seemed in shock still, his eyes still glued to the keys in his hand. "I think he's given up. But I have no idea what that means for him, or for us."


	82. Frustration

As Sam paced the trashed room, you collapsed onto the rumpled bed, the note Dean had left crumpled in your hand. You were shell shocked. You had known that Dean had changed, that the Mark had always affected him more than he had let on. But you had never imagined coming into a room trashed like this, to find that Dean had left the keys to Baby behind. Yeah, he probably had a feeling that you and Sam weren't far behind. But he loved Baby, cared for Baby probably more than was healthy. Anyone could have opened the broken door, and found them laying on the bed.

A tear rolled down your cheek, landing on the crumpled paper. It had been meant for Sam, but he had passed it your way when his throat wouldn't let him talk. You could tell he was just as torn up as you, as shocked by the turn of events. 

"What do you think he's going to do?" You asked Sam, but you weren't sure if he heard you, or could understand you through your tears. He kept pacing, back and forth, stepping around the broken furniture, his long legs eating up the ground of the small room. You watched him for a while, waiting for him to stop, but he kept moving, his hands running through his hair as he muttered to himself.

"Sam." You tried again, but he was so caught him in his own thoughts that once again he didn't hear you. You tried again, this time a little louder. "Sam!"

Finally he stopped and looked your way, his eyes red from grief. "What Y/N? What can you possibly have to say that can fix this situation?" He shot back at you, his grief turning into aggression that was fired your way. Your head snapped back at the words he shouted at you. You knew it was his grief talking, that Sam, your best friend would never treat you that way. 

"I'm sorry. Sorry that this seems to be another dead end. And for the fact that it looks like Dean has given up. But we can't give up! We need to figure out his next move and stop him before he does something crazy!" You told him, standing up and moving towards him. Your face dropped into a frown when he stepped back, shaking his head at you.

"I don't think so Y/N. I think it's too late, and we should have said our goodbyes to him a long time ago." He said sadly.

"Listen up." You ordered him. "We are not going to give up. We got lucky enough to find this place, we will find Dean. You are not allowed to give up. Because if you give up, then I don't know what I can do. You're my rock, the one who keeps me going." You told him before the emotions and frustrations hit you hard, and you fell to your knees amidst the crushed glass. The thought of Sam finally giving up, after the realization that Dean probably had was more than you could bare.

Your head was tilted down, your hair covering your face as you let the tears fall freely. You had no idea what else to do. You weren't sure if you could continue on without Sam. As your tears continued to fall, you felt hands on your shoulders, and you could see his feet as he crouched down in front of you.

"Of course I'm not giving up. I can't give up on Dean, he would never give up on me. I'm just frustrated, that's all." He informed you, tilting your chin up so he could see your face. He pulled you close to him, wrapping you in his embrace. "I'm sorry I made things worse. I would never want to hurt you. You're like a sister to me."

Sniffling, you tried to stop the tears. "I'm sorry. It's just been a really frustrating and emotional day, and it's all seemed to hit me when I heard your words."

"Don't apologize to me." He told you, before helping you to your feet. "Let's get the Impala and get out of this room before someone catches us and makes us pay for it." 

You nodded, glancing around, trying to see if Dean had left anything behind. You missed him so much, and you wondered what had happened to make him trash the room. Maybe he felt guilt for getting the hunter killed, or for hurting you and Cas earlier. Whatever it was, it made your heart ache for him.

As you turned to leave the room, you caught a glimpse of flannel hiding behind a chair, on the floor. Leaning forward, you reached down and pulled the shirt up, realizing it was your favorite flannel of Dean's. Hugging it to your chest, you followed Sam as he climbed into the drivers seat of the Impala. You slid into the passenger side, still clutching the shirt. You had ridden with Sam before while he drove the Impala, but something about this time made it seem wrong. You wanted to see Dean behind the steering wheel, tapping his fingers along to the classic rock song that should be playing on the radio.

Sam drove the Impala down the road, before pulling into a diner. "What are we doing here?" You asked him, as he turned the Impala off.

He turned to face you, the movement hard with his long body. "We have no leads, we have no idea where Dean even is. I thought we could stop here, regroup, come up with some ideas, and have a bite to eat."

You nodded, even though your stomach was in knots from the emotional roller coaster that you had been through that day. It was a small diner, with only three or four customers scattered throughout. Sam led the way to a faded booth, the formica counter top chipping in the corners. You slid in to the far side, while Sam took the bench across from you.

The waitress was prompt, and you ordered just a water to drink. Sam gave you a disapproving look, and you quickly added a sandwich and fries. He ordered the same, with a coffee, and she left the two of you alone.

"Well, now what?" You asked him.

"We need to get a new hotel room, then try to figure out something to research. It's a long shot, but maybe we can find something that will give us an idea of where to find him." Sam answered, just as your food was brought to you.

You picked up a fry, taking a little nibble of it. The first bite made you realize how hungry you really were, and you picked up the sandwich, taking a huge bite out of it. You glanced up, with your mouth full, to see Sam staring at you. "What?" You mumbled around your food.

"You just reminded me of Dean, that's all. I can see why the two of you are perfect for each other." He told you, before picking up his own sandwich. 

"We used to be. But with everything that's happened, we've changed so much. I hope after we help him, cure him, he will still feel the same for me." You told him, admitting your fears.

"Of course he will." Sam reassured you, before his cell phone went off. Pulling it out of his pocket, he looked at the screen before answering it, a look of confusion on his face. "Hello, who is this?" He asked. You could pinpoint the exact moment the voice on the other end answered, because his face went from a look of confusion to a look of utter shock.

"Dean? Where the hell are you?" He asked, his eyes wide as he looked your way.


	83. Final Notice

"Dean, where the hell are you?" You heard Sam ask the person he was talking to over the phone, and you dropped your french fry, your fingers going numb as you waited with baited breath to see what would happen next.

You wished you were somewhere private, that way Sam could turn the call onto the speaker, letting you hear what Dean had to say. But there was a couple in the bench behind Sam, and an older man sitting at the bar right by the side of your table. Knowing Dean, especially Dean with the Mark, the things he would be saying shouldn't be heard by normal people.

Sam stayed silent, and you figured Dean was talking on the other end of the phone. Biting your lip, you waited for Sam's reply, squirming in your seat, wishing he had called you instead. You understood why he called his brother, but still, you hated waiting, not knowing what was going on.

Sam's face was going through a multitude of emotions, from happiness that his brother had finally called him, to shock at what Dean was probably saying. It was the last emotions that crossed his face that had your hands shaking, your lip in between your teeth. Disbelief was the first, his eyes quickly flashing to yours before dropping down to where his hand clutched his water. Then sadness. You could tell even without seeing his face, the way he let his hair drape over his face, his broad shoulders drooping. "Listen Dean, whatever you're doing, wherever you are, please stop. We can help you." He pleaded, before his voice stopped working on him. 

You sat there, wanting to get up and leave, to not hear whatever else that was going to be said during this conversation. You wanted to be a coward, to run out of the diner and never look back. Because you knew for a fact that whatever was happening in that conversation was not a good thing.

"Yeah, I saw him. But Dean, it was the Mark. Let us help you!" You heard the desperation in Sam's words, and you had to fight back tears, torn between the fact that you needed to hear Dean's voice but not wanting to hear the quit in it, or the hard edge the Mark gave it.

"No you can't be done. Y/N and I, we need you." Sam all but sobbed, his red rimmed eyes finally meeting yours and you reached across the table, grasping his hand with yours, trying to give him some sort of comfort.

Sam was quiet, his eyes steady on yours as he listened to Dean on the other end of the line. His hand was tight on yours, but in one second his grip tightened painfully before he let go. You held back a sob as a single tear fell down his cheek. He patted his chest pocket, his eyes frantic.

"Paper?" He mouthed at you, and you pulled out the crumpled note that Dean had left behind at the motel. You snatched the pen from the waitress' tray, giving her an apologetic smile before handing it to Sam. He quickly wrote down an address before pulling the phone from his ear, staring at the screen with a heartbroken expression.

"Sam, what is it?" You asked him, your heart beating so fast you thought it might beat right out of your chest, your hands still shaking, your stomach rumbling with nerves. He glanced around before pulling a twenty out of his pocket. 

"Not here." He said, his voice hoarse, as he tossed the bill onto the table before standing up. You quickly followed suit, your legs having a hard time keeping up with his long ones. You stopped to give the waitress her pen back, groaning when you noticed Sam was already out of the diner. 

"Everything okay sweetie?" She asked you, a genuine look of concern on her wrinkled face. 

"No." You said, your face crumpling. Her sweet and kind nature brought all your pain and heart ache to the brim. 

She set the tray down and surprised you by pulling you into your embrace. "Now I don't know you, or whatever you may be going through. But things have a way of working themselves out. Just wait and see." She told you, before patting you on the back and letting you go.

"Thanks." You whispered, wiping the tears away from your cheeks. You appreciated the effort, but you had a feeling this was one of those things that wouldn't work itself out. But no matter what, you had to see it through to the end.

Sighing, you opened the door, hoping Sam hadn't decided to take off and leave you behind. He hadn't, his big frame was folded up behind the steering wheel, his head resting on the leather, and for a moment you wanted to march over to wherever Dean was and slap him. You knew he was going through a lot, more than either of you could ever imagine. But you hated all the turmoil he was putting you and his brother through. Especially Sam. Shaking your head at yourself as you made your way to the Impala, you knew you could never do that to Dean. No matter how much the two of you were hurting, he was too. You knew you would want to rush into his arms first, even though that could get you killed.

Sam's head didn't move when you opened the door and slid inside. "Sam?" You said, your voice trembling with nerves.

"He's given up." Sam said, his voice muffled by his hair.

"What? But how?" You asked, not sure if you were expecting that.

"He said he can't handle it anymore. The Mark is turning him into something he can't stand, and he's done." He said, looking your way, his eyes still red from unshed tears.

"But how? The Mark won't let him die!" You answered, even though you knew Dean had probably already figured a way around that.

"True. But he's said he's found a way. And he wants to say his goodbyes." Sam explained, and you sucked in a breath. You had never really imagined it would come down to this. You weren't ready to say goodbye to Dean yet. The two of you had been through so much lately. You just wanted the chance to go back to normal with him, to live as normal a life as two hunters could. But it looked like it wouldn't end that way.

Wiping a tear away, you realized how foolish you were being. Of course it wouldn't end that way. You and Dean were hunters, and nothing good ever happened to the two of you. Taking a deep, steadying breath, you gave Sam a small smile. It was more for his benefit than yours. "Well, I guess we better go say bye while we still have the chance." 

He sucked in a breath, just as torn up about this as you were. "I can't believe this is really happening. I always thought he would be around. I mean I've lost him before. But he's always come back. I don't see that happening this time." He admitted.

"Sam, I know this is really hard, for both of us. But this is his decision. Can't we put a good front on, at least for a little while. Let him know he's going out with his family with him?" You said, and Sam nodded.

"Of course. I'm not going to let him do this alone." He said, turning the Impala on and pointing it out of town. The both of you were quiet, each one lost in thoughts of what was going to come.


	84. Death

The ride wasn't as long as you had thought it would be, or secretly wished for. As the town faded behind you, the road became filled with potholes, huge pieces of the pavement braking off. It was as if this part of town had been forgotten, left alone to fade back into the wilderness, one small piece at a time. Foundations were the only things left showing that buildings had once stood there, a thriving community now only meant for animals or those desperate enough on their way out of town.

You nervously bit your lip as you took in the broken history, the silent and eeire ghosts of a town past saving giving you a horrible sense of what was to come. As Sam continued to drive down the pitted street, swerving left and right to miss the many holes, you thought to what you would see up ahead. Sam had told you that Dean was giving up, that he wanted to say his goodbyes. But you weren't sure what that meant. And he had never really mentioned saying goodbye to you, only Sam. It hurt, just a little, to think that during this emotional time, Dean was pushing you to the side, or completely forgetting about you. You understood the bond between brothers was deep, something that you couldn't, and didn't want to come between. But you wanted Dean to think about you, for at least a moment. Because the two of you had been through so much together, and you loved him so deeply, and it brought a pang to your heart to think you didn't matter enough for a goodbye.

Sam must have noticed how unsettled you felt, with the way your teeth kept tugging at your lip, or the way you kept tapping your finger against the door. He reached over, and placed a comforting hand over yours, even though just minutes ago you had been the one comforting him. "Y/N, you know you can talk to me."

You knew you could, that wasn't the problem. But you didn't want to lay any more on his shoulders, he already had more than enough that he was dealing with. "I know. I'm just worried about what we are heading into." You said, keeping it simple.

"Me too. But at least he is giving us a chance to talk to him." Sam replied, and then the both of you turned silent again.

It wasn't much longer before Sam was slowing the Impala, turning into what didn't seem like much. You could tell at one time there had been a parking lot here, but it was now covered in grass, weeds and dirt. A large sign stood off to the left, proclaiming this to be, or used to be Jaunita's cafe. It was weathered and beaten, and you suspected one large gust and it would topple to the ground.

The cafe wasn't much better. It had a rustic, Mexican feel to it, with the tan stucco shades darker in some spots do the dust and wear. The porch had a red tiled roof, but many of them had slid off, leaving the sense of a mouth missing multiple teeth. The letters on the wall had long since peeled away, their dirty frames the only thing letting you know they had once been hanging and bright.

You didn't like the look, or the feel of the place. It felt wrong, and desperate, and you glanced frantically back at Sam, wondering if he had gotten the directions wrong. He was staring forward, his jaw line determined, his eyes set, but you could tell beneath all of that he was just as nervous as you were.

A lone, non descript gray sedan was in the parking lot, something that you would have never expected Dean to pick. It was the only other source of recent life in this desolate place. The creak of a car door opening broke you out of your perusal, and you turned to see that Sam had gotten out of the car. You joined him, your footsteps heavy and slow, matching your need to see what was inside.

Sam glanced down at you, his face serious and stern. "No matter what we see, or what happens, I need to know you are safe. I want you to stand behind me at all times. And if things turn south, I want you to run. Don't look back, just take the Impala and drive. Drive anywhere, but do not come back for me. Do you understand?"

"Sam, you can't ask that of me!" You started to argue, but the look on his face said there was no way he was going to let you argue about this. He was decided, and there was nothing you could do to change his mind. "Fine, but I don't like it."

"You don't have to like it. But as long as you are safe." Was all he said before he took long steps towards the rotting porch, and you had to struggle to keep up. You knew he had two purposes for walking so fast, one to stop you from arguing, and the second one was to get the surprise over with. 

You followed behind, your eyes taking in everything. From the faded signs still hanging on the walls, to the broken chairs laying along the dirt. The small windows gracing the front were covered in grime and many were broken. "Why did Dean pick this place?" You asked, half to yourself.

"I have no idea." Sam threw over his shoulder, but he never stopped. The front door was wooden, with the beautifully painted scene faded and cracked. Sam pushed it open, and you winced at how loud the creak was. He didn't hold it open for you, but you knew that was because he wanted to stay ahead of you at all times. There was a second door, this one glass, that only had a thin layer of grime covering it, giving the inside of the restaurant a blurry tinge. 

Once Sam opened the door, you followed him in, confused by the wonderful smells of Mexican food that was wafting through the interior of the cafe. The restaurant was bathed in light, from strings hanging around the ceiling, along with neon signs selling various types of beer. Sam had turned to his right, his body tense as he took in the scene in front of him. His large frame blocked the door frame, keeping you caged in the small foyer. Frustrated, you stomped your foot, caught between wanting to see, and just wanting to get it over with.

"Heya Sammy." You heard Dean say from farther inside, and you let out a small sigh of relief, relieved that he hadn't gone through his plan yet.

After his brother spoke, Sam took another step inside, then another, his once large movements now small and precise. Finally free from the small space, you caught up with him, keeping behind him as promised. 

The first thing you noticed was how all the furniture had been left behind. The booths, the tables, the chairs. Even the glasses and plates behind the bar had been forgotten, left to rot away. You saw a table, with a big barrel as the base, loaded with different types of Mexican food. Dean stood next to it, dressed in his very familiar maroon flannel shirt. His arms were crossed, his legs spread a little as he stared his brother down. He looked beaten and down, and you wanted nothing more than to rush over to him, to take him in your arms and let him know everything would be okay. But you stayed put, one step behind Sam, but far enough to the side that you could see around him, and see everything.

"Hi Dean." Sam finally answered, his voice surprisingly calm. As you continued to stare at Dean, you saw movement from the side of the room. Curious, you tilted your gaze, when what you saw made your jaw drop.

Not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself, you took a step closer to Sam, before tapping him on his shoulder. "Not now Y/N." He answered, but you tried again, knowing that he needed to know this.

"What?" He finally asked, his attention, but not his gaze, off of his silent brother. At least for a split second.

"Sam, look over there." You told him, tilting your head so he could see where you meant. His eyes followed your movement, and you saw them widen as he noticed what you had seen.

"Death?" He asked, his voice losing the calm demeanor he had been working so hard to convey.


	85. The Void

"Death?" You echoed, your stomach churning at the news. While you had been travelling and hunting with the Winchesters, you hadn't had the chance to meet Death like they had. Truthfully, you were kind of glad you hadn't met him, but now, here you were, standing face to face with someone older than God himself. He was tall, and thin, almost unhealthily so, his face gaunt. He was dressed in black, with a fancy cane in one hand. He watched you and Sam with somewhat of an interested stare, his gaze lingering on you just a little too long for your liking.

"Well, hello Sam." He said, his voice surprisingly smooth and calm. You hadn't been sure what Death's voice would sound like, but this was not it. "And Y/N." He said, addressing you. You took a step closer to Sam, uncomfortable with the way Death seemed to be sizing you up.

"I'm glad you came." Dean's voice rang out, taking your attention off of Death and back onto him. He had moved forward a step, his hands at his side. "We need to talk."

Sam glanced between him and Death, a look of desperation and confusion etched onto his face. "Dean, whatever this is, you don't have to do it. You don't have to go with him." Dean stood there calmly, staring at his brother. If it wasn't for the slight twitch in his jaw, you would have thought this wasn't effecting him at all.

"Dean, you don't have to die. There is another way." You told him, ignoring Sam's orders and stepping around him until you were a step ahead of him. You felt his hand reach out to grasp you, but you shrugged it off. You needed Dean to see you, to see that you hadn't given up on him.

"Funny you say that Y/N. But actually I expected those words from Sam. Hell, I didn't even expect to see you here." He told you, giving you one glance before turning back towards Sam. "Truth is, after I left, I thought the only way out was my death." He said.

By this time Sam had come to stand next to you, partly to protect you, but also so he was fully in Dean's view. "What do you mean?" He asked.

"Well Death and I have been having a talk. And it's not my death that will fix everything." Dean said, his gaze unwavering as he stared at his brother. You could only watch the exchange between them, frightened to know where this was heading.

 

"Then what are we even doing here?" Sam asked, throwing his arms out, showcasing the joint. 

Dean licked his lips. "It's not my Death that we are here for. It's yours." He answered simply, and at that moment you felt your knees buckle a little bit, shocked beyond belief. Sam could only stare at his brother in shock, his chest heaving.

"Can we just sit down and talk about this?" You asked, stepping in between the brothers. Your heart was pounding, and your palms were sweating, but you knew you had to be the voice of reason. 

"They need to hear it, to understand it." Death said, walking behind Dean to go sit down on the edge of the stage.

Nobody made a move to sit down, but Dean did follow Death's orders. "The Mark is a key that will release the darkness. If I remove the Mark, darkness will rain down over the Earth, and I can't have that. But Death says there is a place, a void, he can send me. I will live there, for eternity, never able to hurt anyone ever again." He explained.

"What? Death's going to send you into space? And you're just going to let him?" Sam argued, taking a step closer.

"What does this all have to do with Sam's death? Why would he need to die if Dean's going to be sent to this void?" You asked, your mind still whirling at the news.

"Because Sam is like a bull dog, and he won't rest until he sets his brother free. He won't rest until his brother's free of the Mark. And that simply cannot happen" Death answered, walking slowly through the room before ending inches away from Sam's face.

Sam gently pushed you away from him, his eyes never leaving Death's. Making sure you were far away from Death, Sam walked around him, coming to stand in front of Dean once again. "So, you just traded my life? Is that it?" He asked.

You tensed as you felt a presence on your right. Without moving you rolled your eyes to the right, stiffening when you saw Death standing just inches away from you. "I'm willing to live with this, on my arm, for all eternity. Just so I know that it, and I will never hurt another living soul. Isn't it worth a little sacrificing to know we are saving lives?"

"This isn't you." Sam pleaded, and you wanted to go to them, to help Dean understand that this was crazy, but Death had some sort of hold on you, and you couldn't move. 

"Dean, this is crazy!" You yelled across the room. "It doesn't make any sense!"

Dean barely glanced at you, his gaze completely on his brother, his mouth puckered with frustration. "No, it makes perfect sense. If the two of you would stop thinking about yourselves for one damn minute!" He yelled, and inwardly you recoiled at the anger in his voice.

"It's for the greater good." Death voiced from beside you. "Once you consider that, it makes all the sense in the world." 

"Dean, please no." You begged, fighting against the invisible force holding you tight in your spot. Sam glanced quickly behind him, at where you stood beside Death. His eyes were full of heart break, and pain, and you knew yours must echo the same exact emotions.

"Do you remember back at that church? You were ready to die for the greater good then." Dean said, pacing around his brother, coming close to you, and you wanted to reach out, to stop him from emotionally tearing his brother apart. You loved him, but it hurt to see him hurting his brother like this. 

"But you pulled me back." Sam argued, as you struggled against your hold. 

"And I was wrong." He said simply, and you gasped, earning a glance from Dean.

"Dean!" You yelled. "Stop it! This isn't really you!" 

"You knew this world would be better off without us in it. You, me, hell even Y/N. We try to do good, the family business. Evil tracks us, it follows us and burns everything in it's wake. It's time we stopped fooling around and put a name to it." Dean said.

"Evil? We are far from evil." Sam argued. "That Mark on your arm is evil, but not you. Not me, and certainly not Y/N."

Dean glanced your way then, his eyes squinting as if he was taking you in for the first time. "Y/N is just as jaded as the rest of us. Hell, maybe even more. The things she's seen, the things she's done. She's just as bad."

You tried to stay stoic during his little speech, but you felt your resolve slipping at the last words he spoke. His gaze was direct on you, his words full of venom, and you knew he wanted you to hurt. "Dean, enough. Leave Y/N out of this. Hell, let her go. She doesn't need to be a part of this." Sam argued.

It was then you felt the hold on you tighten, and you gasped out in pain. Sam turned his gaze to you, as you stood there shaking from the pain coursing through you. "I've changed my mind Dean." He started, and both brothers stared your way, Dean in mild curiosity, Sam in horror. "I've decided that Y/N can't live either. She's just as bull headed as Sam, and she loves you too much, too deeply. I'm afraid she won't give up either. They both have to die."


	86. Life or Death

No!" Sam exclaimed, moving to come to your side, but Dean reached a hand out, grasping his shirt, stopping his brother from helping you. Dean tilted his head, neither mad or upset about the fact that Death had just said you had to die. 

"Dean, please." You begged, unable to fight against Death's hold. "You don't have to do this." 

"Dean, this isn't you thinking clearly, it's the Mark." Sam pleaded.

"No, this is me. I need to stop this before I hurt someone else, kill someone else. Can't you see I'm evil?" Dean argued, letting go of his brother's shirt, pacing in front of him.

"Dean, you are not evil. You were willing to summon Death to make sure you could never do any more harm." Sam tells him, and you wanted to move next to Sam, to give him your support, but Death's hold was still too strong.

Sam continued on, standing in front of his brother, trying to make him understand. "You summoned me because you knew I would do anything to protect you. Both Y/N and I. That's not evil, Dean. You are not an evil man."

"That is a good man crying to be heard, searching for... some other way." You heard Sammy say very softly, his speech done.

Dean was quiet, staring down at his boots, and you felt a moment of elation that Sam had talked Dean into not doing this, but then he looked up, sadness mixed with determination. It was then you realized your fight was hopeless, that he had made up his mind, and nothing you or Sam could say was going to change that.

You felt tears slowly drift down your cheek, saddened by the fact that you might have to witness one brother kill the other. In all your time with them, with all the love the three of you had shared, you had never imagined it would come to this.

"There is no other way, Sam." Dean says. "I'm sorry."

You watched as Sam's body tensed up, before he let a punch fly, hitting Dean square in the jaw. Dean rubbed it for a moment before a smile crept onto his face. "Good." Was all he said, before his fist flew towards Sam, hitting him in the cheekbone.

Back and forth they went, each one hitting the other in the face, in the stomach, and you struggled against Death's hold, wanting to stop this madness, but Death wasn't letting go anytime soon. "Y/N, stop struggling. They have to get this out of their systems before Dean can kill Sam."

You watched as Dean pummeled Sam, crying out when he hit the floor, and Dean kept punching him in the face. "Dean, stop!" You pleaded, but he gave you a cold, detached look before he punched Sam again. It was too much for you to take in, and you felt your knees quivering, before they gave out on you. Surprising Death, he let go of you, and you ran over to try and stop Dean.

"Dean, please stop!" You exclaimed, trying to grab his arm and stop him. He gave you a quick look, shaking you off easily. You weren't deterred, you tried again, just as Dean swung his arm back, and his fist hit you right in the cheek. The force knocked you back, and you fell onto your arm, feeling the crunch of the bones in your wrist. Crying out in pain, you tried to get back up, wanting to stop Dean, but Sam had had enough.

"Okay, that's enough." Sam pleaded, one eye almost shut, bleeding from a split lip, a gash in his cheek. "That's enough." Using your good hand, you were able to stand up. Rushing towards Sam, you knelt on the ground, holding his battered head in your good hand. Sam struggled to push you back, worrying about you instead of himself. "Y/N, go. Please. Go and never look back."

For a second you considered it, but you knew you wouldn't do it. You had done your running one too many times, and now, even if you ended up dying, you were going to stick around. To the end. Giving a quick shake of your head, you watched as despair fully set on Sam's face.

He turned towards Dean, as Death came striding forward, his sickle in his hands. Leaning down he yanked you away from Sam. "Dean, you will never hear my say that you are anything but a good person. But you're right."

You stared down at Sam, not believing your ears. "Before you hurt anyone else you need to be stopped...at any cost." He continued. "I understand." He told his brother, his eyes full of tears, and you felt yours continue.

"Finally." Death said, but you tried to fight again. Even though Sam had given up, you couldn't. You weren't ready to give up on Dean yet, and you weren't sure you entirely believed Death's story. Raising your good hand, you punched Death squarely in the face, hard enough that you felt him take a step back. You looked at him in shock, in disbelief that you had just hit Death. "Y/N, you shouldn't have done that." He told you, before holding the sickle in front of him, slashing it down, and you felt it slice across your belly. 

"I'm sorry Y/N, I didn't want your death to happen this way. I did respect you. But you fought too hard, and I really need to get this over with." He said as he let go of you, and you slowly fell to the ground, holding your stomach tightly. Looking down, you noticed the blood that was starting to seep through your fingers.

Y/N!" Sam said, but Death had already given Dean the sickle, and Dean was holding it to Sam's neck, keeping him in place.

"Leave her. It's the end for her, and it's the end for you too." Dean told him, before arcing the Sickle behind him.

"Do it." He told Dean, staring up at him through tear stained lashes, and you wanted to pull yourself off of the floor, to try and stop it somehow. Instead you could only lay there, your blood slowly turning your shirt a deep, dark red.

"Close your eyes." Dean commanded, but Sam continued to look up at his brother with nothing but love and understanding shining in his eyes. "Sammy, close your eyes." He ordered again, and Sam whispered a soft "I'm sorry." before he complied. 

Seeing Dean standing there, the Sickle in his hands, towering over his crying brother had you sobbing, your pain forgotten. You knew that no matter what happened after, he would never forgive himself for killing Sam. 

As you grew weak from the blood loss, you saw Sam pull out papers from his coat, his hand shaking as he held them out to Dean. "Take these." He stuttered. "Let them be your guide. For when you find your way back, let these remind you what it is to love, and to be good."

He dropped them on the floor, and you could just make them out. They were pictures. One of Dean with his mother holding him. The other was of him and Sam hugging it out. The last one was your favorite. It was of you and Dean. Sam had taken it, while you and Dean were sitting on the hood of the Impala. You had fallen asleep in his arms, and he was glancing down at you, his gaze full of love. That picture had a special place on your nightstand, but you had lost it the night the Steins had destroyed the bunker.

"It's for family that you must proceed." Death goaded Dean, trying to get the job over with. "You've become a stain, and this is the only way to fix things."

As you felt yourself growing weaker, you noticed the mix of emotions crossing Dean's face, from confusion and frustration, to yearning and love. He glanced between the pictures and at Sam, who sat there, giving him a reassuring nod.

Dean glanced over at you, his eyes full of grief and sadness, before taking a big swing with the Sickle. Closing your eyes, you didn't want this to be the last thing you saw before you died. Instead, you concentrated on all the good memories of Dean, letting them blind you to what was really happening in front of you.


	87. Fighting to Live

As a hunter, you had always known an early, unglamorous death was in your future. You had no idea, when, where or how. But you had always known it would be before the hair on your head turned gray, and it would be at the end of a knife, gun, or claws of some Supernatural being.

There had been many times you considered what dying would be like. Death was such a ingrained part of your life that you couldn't help but think on it. Would it hurt? You had heard stories that the pain faded, leaving you numb until you faded away. But you had also seen those who cried and fought until the very end, making it seem like it was the most horrific thing that could ever happen. 

Then there was the fact of what happened after you passed. Would you be caught in the void, never moving on? Or had you spilled so much blood that there was a special place for you reserved in hell. You had once believed what you were doing was for the greater good, and that because of it, you had a special spot in heaven. But as time went on, and everything you had dealt with, that thought went farther and farther away.

When you had imagined your death, it was Dean by your side, offering you words of encouragment and love as tears spilled down his cheeks. His arms would be wrapped around you, as he rocked you back and forth. That's what you had imagined. 

But nothing had prepared you for what was happening right now. Your stomach felt as if it was burning from the inside out. It was as if your insides were molten lava, and they were trying to escape. You had no idea where you were, what was going on. All you could concentrate was on the pain, your arms wrapped around your middle, trying to ease the pain anyway you could. Maybe you were in Hell, and you were already on the torture block. If so, you weren't sure you could handle a lifetime of this. 

In the back of your mind, you could still hear the sounds around you. Sounds of a scuffle surrounded you, voices that sounded as if they were underwater, unintelligible. You tried to concentrate on them, for multiple reasons. The first was to gather a sense of where you were, if you were still alive or not. The second was to concentrate on anything but the pain that was engulfing you.

It helped, for a moment, and you could tell you were laying on the cold hard ground, with a warm, gooey substance collecting underneath your back. Your eyes fluttered open, just in time to see a pair of fern green eyes staring down at you. It was then, memories of what was currently happening came back to you. Memories of you and Sam following Dean to this restaurant, and Death ordering Sam's demise, along with yours. You remembered the fight between the brothers, before Death had taken matters in his hands, slicing your stomach open, leaving you to die, or to be killed later by Dean.

"No, please don't kill me." You begged through blood spattered teeth. Your voice was hoarse, and gurgled as you spoke, from the blood pooling everywhere. If you weren't dead now, you would be soon.

Your vision fluttered in and out, giving you glimpses of Dean standing above you, his eyes filled with tears and concern. You knew then you must either be in the void between life and death, or in Hell, because the Dean you remembered, he wouldn't care if you were dying. Hell he had promised Death he was going to kill his brother, then you. 

You felt your battered body being picked up, and you cried out in pain, your eyes closing as a red haze covered you. You almost didn't hear the words whispered above your head. "Hold on Y/N. Oh my God, please don't die on me." 

It sounded like Dean, but why would he be praying for you when he had been contemplating your death moments earlier? It didn't make any sense, but maybe this was Hell's way of messing with your mind. "Dean." You muttered.

"Sweetheart, I'm here. I'm going to take care of you." He promised, as he gently placed you down once again. You heard him yelling for his brother, as another shadow came to stand over you, blocking out the glare of the horrible neon lights. Between them, and your never ending pain in your stomach, you knew you were still alive, but barely.

"Sam?" You asked, turning your gaze on him, needing the confirmation from him that everything was okay. He was staring down at you, tears falling from his face as he looked from you to your stomach.

"We did it Y/N! We killed Death, and we saved Dean." He said, tears choking his words. "And now we are going to help you. Just hold on, for us."

You felt a huge pressure lift from your shoulders, taking away some of the pain. Dean was saved, and as he moved you could see the Mark was no longer on his arm. No matter what happened next, you felt like you could die in peace. "Dean, love you." You were able to say, before a coughing fit racked your body.

"Sweetheart, I love you too, but it's too early to be saying our goodbyes. I'll get you fixed up, I promise." He told you, as he moved your arms away from your wound. You saw him wince as he looked at Sam. "Sam, find anything to use for stitches. Quick!" He yelled.

Pulling off his shirt, he placed in on your stomach, trying to staunch your bleeding, and you moaned as a new wave of pain washed over you. "I know it hurts. I'm so sorry." He kept repeating over and over again as Sam came back. You had your eyes tightly closed, tears leaking out of them from the pain.

"Dean, let me." You heard Sam mutter, before you felt your hand being grasped. 

"Come one Y/N, show me those pretty e/c eyes of yours." He begged, and you obeyed. Opening them, you saw Dean bent down over you, trying to act calm and collected, but his jaw was tense, and his eyes were rimmed with red. "Sam's going to stitch you up, good as new." He promised.

"Dean, I..." You started talking, but he placed a finger of your lip, shushing you. 

"Reserve your strength. You're going to need it." He told you, before holding a glass up to your lips. It was amber in color, and you knew they were giving you whiskey to help mask the pain. You hungrily gulped it down, just as you felt the first pull of the needle. Again and again you winced, as you felt Sam sew up your broken skin. Each time you would cry out, squeezing Dean's hand. Each moan you saw him shudder, as if he felt your pain along with you. 

"Done." Sam finally said, standing up. "But she's lost a lot of blood. We should get her to a hospital."

Dean nodded, before standing up. "I'm going to pick you up, it will hurt, but we can't stay here." 

Biting your lip, you couldn't hold back the groan as his arms wrapped underneath you. Closing your eyes, you wished for a moment that you could succumb to unconsciousness, so you wouldn't have to feel this pain anymore. But it didn't come, and you felt each jarring pain as he gently carried you through the doors, before the sunlight hit your face.

"Help me get her in the car Sam." You heard Dean tell his brother, but they both just stood there, Dean's arms tightening on you until you moaned once again.

"Shit, get in the car now!" Dean yelled, before running to the car. Something horrible must be happening, because he forgot all about your battered body in his haste to get the two of you safely inside Baby's metal and glass walls. "Hold on Y/N." He said breathlessly as he ran, and you could hear the creak of the door as Sam opened it. Dean gently slid you inside before shutting the door and climbing into the driver's seat. "Hold on everyone!" 

You heard the car start, the engine revving as Dean backed her up, then your entire body stiffen in pain as the back tire landed in a pot hole. "Dean, let's go!" Sam yelled, his voice filled with urgency.

Using every last ounce of strength you had, you wrapped your arm around your middle, bracing yourself against the seat as you slowly sat up. What you saw had you wanting to lay back down and pretend you had never seen it. A big black cloud was hurling your way, faster than you had ever seen anything move in your life.

"Hold on!" Dean said, looking at both you and Sam as you could do nothing but watch as it came flying your way.


	88. Meeting the Darkness

The cloud was indescribable. It was dark, worse than any thunder storm you had ever seen. It moved faster than a tornado, and you knew there was little hope that the Impala could outrun it, even if it wasn't currently spinning it's wheel in a pot hole.

Holding onto your side tightly, you moaned in pain as the car rocked from the wind in front of the cloud. You watch Sam reach out for his brother, tightly grasping onto his shirt as an anchor. Dean glanced at him, his eyes big and full of fear. He then looked backwards to you, surprised to see you in an upright position. "Y/N, get down!" He yelled over the loud howling of the wind. 

You obeyed, partly because you didn't want to see what was going to happen next, but also because you had used up most of your strength getting into a sitting position and you were wobbly. Sliding down into the seat until you were laying on your back, you moaned. Your face was drenched with sweat, and you felt as if you could pass out at any moment.

"Dean!" You heard Sam yell, then you could hear nothing else. It was as if someone had muted the entire world. You couldn't hear both brothers yelling up front, even though you could still see their mouths moving in the darkened light brought on by the cloud. You couldn't hear it raging outside anymore, or the growl of the engine as Dean continued to step on the gas pedal. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping against hope that when you opened them again, this storm would be gone, you wouldn't have this slash in your side, and everything would be okay. Counting to five, you took a deep breath, and opened your eyes once again.

What you saw had your hammering in your chest. In the five seconds your eyes had been closed, you had somehow been transported out of the Impala, without feeling it, at all. You now laid in the middle of somewhere, on your back. Your wound, which had only been seeping blood, had been opened again by the force, and you lay there, panting for a breath as pain course through you again.

The wind howled around you, but where you laid was calm. The cloud, or what seemed more like a fog pulsed around you, moving in and out, but never touching you. It was weird, and if you weren't in so much pain, you would try to figure it out.

"Who are you?" A strange voice, a woman's voice asked from off to your side, before she walked into your vision. She came into your vision, a woman wearing a floor length black gown, low cut. She had long, curly brunette hair, that the wind didn't even touch. She walked around you in a circle, her gaze curious as she observed you.

"Y/N. Who are you?" You asked, thinking this woman had something to do with the cloud. That thought, that this normal looking woman could control a cloud this huge, scared you. 

"I've heard about you. You see, I know of Dean, know all about Dean, and his desires. And you are the first thing in his mind." She said.

A sharp pain shot through your body, causing you to moan in pain, clutching your belly. "You're hurt." She said, more of a statement than anything. "I don't think that will work. I need to talk to you." 

She crouched down, the movement seeming foreign to her. Placing her hand over your wound, she closed her eyes, concentrating. A warmth spread over you, nothing like when you've been healed by Cas. It was comforting and your entire body relaxed as it spread through you. As soon as it started, it ended, and she stood back up, seeming proud of her work. "There, now we can talk without any interruptions."

All of your pain went away, and you glanced down, no longer seeing the gaping wound in your stomach. "Thank you?" You questioned, still unsure and more than a little scared around her.

"It really wasn't for you. You are a curiosity to me, and I need you healthy in order to help me." She said calmly, as if she hadn't just healed you.

You sat up carefully, thankful you were no longer in pain. The wind and the fog still rolled around you, but you were safe, for the second at least. "What are you?" You asked her.

"You can call me the darkness. I've been waiting a long time for this day." She told you, still circling around you.

"Why?" You asked, circling around so she stayed in your view at all times.

"I've been waiting for someone to set me free. I need to see him, to thank Dean. But I had to see what holds his heart first." She said, before stepping forward and grabbing your arm, holding you still. "But I don't get it. You're nothing special. You don't have any powers, you are just a weak, pitiful mortal. You're not even that pretty, but I don't know what the standards are."

"Why do you care so much for Dean?" You asked, wincing as her fingers dug painfully into your arm. 

"Because he held the key to my dungeon. He was the one who set me free. We are connected now." She told you, using her free arm to pull away the black sleeve of her dress, showing you the Mark. You were shocked at first, but then you remembered Death saying something about a bigger bad out there in the world.

"Dean? Connected with you? I don't think so." You told her, earning a frown, the first emotion you had seen her show. 

"He is connected with me. And I'm trying to figure out where you stand in all of this, and what I should do with you." She said, before pulling you tighter to her. She opened her mouth, as if to kiss you, but then she closed it and shook her head. "No, I am not going to take your soul. But I don't think I can have you in the way of Dean or I. What should I do?"

You froze, wondering exactly what she was if she was able to take souls. "Please. Can't you just leave us alone? We've been through so much." You pleaded.

She was silent, her eyes dark on you. "No, I don't think I can do that. And I need to hurry, I need to talk to Dean." She said. "I think I need you out of the way. At least for now. I don't need you distracting him." 

Before you could argue, you let go of your arm. Placing her hand on her chin, she stared at you, and it was unnerving. Wondering if she was going to kill you, or send you somewhere. Maybe she would wipe your memories, making you forget Dean existed. There were all these possibilities that you could think of, and each one ended in heartbreak and despair for you.

"I think I've figured it out." She said, smiling, before clapping her hands together, sending you away.


	89. Where am I?

It was as if there was a switch in your brain. One minute it had been shut off, the next, back on at full speed. Sitting up you groaned as your head started pounding. Placing a hand on your temple to try to ease some of the pain, you peered around the room wondering where you were. 

Wherever it was, it was dark, and dreary, smelling musky and old. There was no light to be had anywhere, not even the slightest bit coming from everywhere. Starting to panic, you moved to stand up, before realizing you were sitting on something, cold, and metal, and about four feet off the ground. Sliding your legs over, you dropped to the ground, the echo in the room letting you know it was pavement. 

Your arms out in front of you, you stumbled around, tripping over God knows what, your hand brushing against, plastic, glass, metal, and everything in between. Finally, without falling, you came to a wall. Spreading your hands out, you felt around, past posters and storage containers. Up and down you felt, almost jumping for joy when your hand hit a switch. Flicking it up, you were almost blinded by the bright, neon light that filled the room. 

Giving your eyes a moment to adjust, you then began to focus on your surroundings. The room was windowless, with plain white walls on every side covered with posters and signs. Shelving filled two of the sides, plain silver filing cabinets and drawers that you would find in any supply closet. It was the fourth wall, straight across from you that had you confused. It was lined with big silver doors, about twelve total, in three rows. Each door was at least big enough to hold one body, and that's when it hit you. The cold, steel tables in the middle, the posters of human bodies around the walls, and the coolers at the other end. Somehow you had woken up in a morgue.

Rushing to the door, you pulled on the handle, a frustrated sob escaping you when it wouldn't budge. Standing in the middle, you rotated, looking for a way out, for a way to reach someone. In the corner was a mirror, and you walked over to it, checking yourself over for injuries. You seemed fine, no mortal wounds, or anything graced your skin, making you even more confused as to why you had woken up here, in the dark.

You started opening up the drawers, one by one, trying to find anything to get you out of this mess. You passed up needles, and other various medical equipment, holding on to a small, silver surgical knife for precautions. You didn't understand why, but you felt the need to have something there to protect yourself with.

As you rummaged through another drawer, a small black box on the floor drew your interest. Picking it up, you sighed in relief as you saw the familiar shape of a cell phone in your hand. Opening it up, you saw the battery flashing red, and you knew you had time to make one quick call before it died.

Your hand arched over the keypad, you waited for someone's number, someone's name to pop up from your memories. Someone you knew that would answer and come running to your rescue. But the seconds ticked slowly by, and your mind continued to stay blank. Not even a face popped up, nothing but static was in your mind, and that scared you more than being locked in a morgue. 

You glanced over towards the human fridges, wondering if there were bodies in there, the thought running shivers up and down your spine. You turned back to the phone, ready to dial 911 when the screen turned black, and you knew it had run out of battery.

Your back against the wall, you slid down it, frustrated and scared. Your head in your hands, you tried to control your breathing, trying not to let this totally freak you out. It was scary enough being in a morgue, all alone, but now you couldn't even think of a single person you knew. Not one. You tried thinking back, to remember your name, your birthday, anything, but it was all a blank slate. 

You wanted to curl up, to lay on your side, and let your fears take over. You weren't even sure what type of person you were. Maybe you were the type to tackle things head on, to fight and not give up. Or maybe you were the type that wanted to avoid conflict, and you were more than willing to lay down and worry about all your troubles.

As you sat there, tears threatening to spill over, you heard movement from outside the door. You sat up straight, your tears forgotten as you held on tightly to the small silver knife you had found. You slowly came to your feet, inching over to the door. A sound of scuffling came from the other side, before a male voice started speaking, his words muffled.

You weighed your options. You could stay in here, and wait to see if you could find your own way out. Or you could try to draw that man's attention, seeing if he would help you. You decided to choose the latter, hoping it was the right choice. Hopefully this man wasn't the one who had put you in the morgue in the first place.

Pounding on the door, you yelled, trying to gain his attention. "Help! I'm locked in here!" You screamed, your voice surprisingly hoarse.

You heard him yell from the other side, but you couldn't understand his words. You kept on pounding, when you heard someone jiggling the the door handle. "It won't open!" You yelled to him.

Within moments, the handle was turning, and the door opened. On the other side stood a man. He was tall, filling out the entire door frame with his stature. He had long hair, almost to his shoulders, shoulders that were quite impressive in their width. He held a gun in one hand, his long arms covered in flannel. 

"Oh my God! Thank you so much! I was locked in here, and I..." You started to say, but stopped at the look on this mans face.

"Y/N?" He whispered, before pulling you to him in a bone crushing hug. "Thank God! We thought you were dead, that the cloud somehow had killed you! We looked for you everywhere! What are you doing here?" He blurted out, his words coming fast, his voice deep but smooth.

"Um excuse me." You said, and he stopped talking, looking down at you. "But who are you?"


	90. Black

"Wait a minute. You don't remember me? Not at all?" This tall specimen of a man asked, his face completely lax, showing how much shock he was in.

"Am I supposed to?" You asked quietly, his gaze burning into you making you feel even more uncomfortable and freaked out than you had been moments earlier. 

"Oh shit." He muttered under his breath. "I wish Dean was here."

Cocking your head to the side, you asked. "Who's Dean."

You watched as his frustration became evident. He ran his hands through his long, shiny hair, turning in a circle. "You don't even know who Dean is?"

"I don't even know who I am. Can you help me?" You told him, the question ending quiet and heart broken. You hated asking a stranger for help, even one who supposedly knew you. 

One hand still rubbing the back of his neck, he nodded, stepping forward. "Of course I will help you Y/N. You don't remember, but you and I, we go way back. We're really good friends who have been through a lot, together."

You nodded, even though you weren't quite sure you believed him. But he was your best option until you could figure something else out. "Your name is? And where am I?"

He kept glancing behind him, and his hand kept moving to the back of his jeans. He seemed a little preoccupied, and nervous, upsetting you a little more. "My name's Sam. You're in a hospital, about 50 miles from where you were last seen, about three days after you had gone missing."

You stood there, considering your options. He really did act like he knew you, but he could also be a good actor who was feeding you lies so you would believe him. You tried to glance around him, to see in the hallway, but his tall, broad frame filled most of it up, leaving only glimpses of a dark, and empty place. "If this is a hospital, where is everyone? And why was I in the morgue? It's not possible to die and come back." You said, logically.

"Yeah right." Sam muttered under his breath. "Listen, I would love to stand here, and prove that I know you, and that you know me. That I mean you no harm. But there are things, people, that do mean me, and in turn you, harm. We need to get going."

It was a big risk, following this man's orders, but something in the back of your mind let you know it would be alright. You saw as he held his hand out, and without thinking you took it. It was warm, and huge, the fingers callused. He must use them everyday in his line of work, you thought to yourself as he pulled you out of the room. 

His long legs ate up the hallway, and you had to jog to keep up with him. As you moved along, you peered down at the dead bodies lining the floor, the overturned wheelchairs, and carts pushed haphazardly everywhere. It was the scene of a battle, with blood splattered all over the once pristine white walls, and you felt like you were going to get sick.

"Sam, what happened?" You asked, as he hurried his steps up. 

"Not now Y/N." He answered, before turning the corner and coming into a chapel. Pushing you inside, he closed the door, locking it, before pulling a bench across the room, pressing it hard up against the door.

You took slow, careful steps back from him, more than a little spooked from the sights you had just witnessed, and the fact that you were now locked into a room with this man, the only one who seemed to still be alive. 

He dusted his hands off, turning to you, frowning as he saw how far you had backed up. "Y/N, woah, it's not what you think." He said, holding his hands up to show you he meant no harm. "Sit, we can talk now."

You nodded, your face hidden in the shadows of the barely lit room. Sitting in one of the benches up front, you tensed when he came closer. Noticing, he took a bench three down from you, his large frame taking up multiple spots. "Talk." You told him.

He took a deep breath. "Listen, what I have to say will probably freak you out more than what you just saw did." He started.

"I don't care. You say you know me, but so far, you haven't proven why. I need something, anything to go on." You pleaded with him.

"Fine. Your Y/N Y/L/N. You have been living with Dean and I, ever since we met you when you had just graduated college. We hunt monsters, things that kill humans, and we've stopped a lot of bad things from happening."

He was right. Listening to him spout crazy talk freaked you out more than the dead bodies laying outside. You stood up, running towards the door, trying to pull the bench out of your way. It was heavy, way heavier than you imagined. Sam must be amazingly strong to have moved it all by himself.

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you tried to move the heavy wooden bench, until a pair of strong arms wrapped around you. "Y/N, stop!" Sam's voice said, but you didn't. You thrashed about in his arms, trying to get away. Your only thought was of running away, of leaving this man in the dust, along with this weird and creepy hospital. 

"Y/N! Stop!" He ordered again, his arms tightening around you, and you gave in, knowing there was no way you could muscle your way out of his arms, or this situation. "Please, Y/N, you have to believe me." He begged, his voice going soft.

You went limp in his arms, exhausted beyond belief. He felt the tension drain from your body, but still he held you, making sure it wasn't some sort of trap. "Y/N, can I let you go now?" He asked, but before you could nod yes, he had moved his arms from around your waist, and one was currently brushing the hair back from your neck. He seemed frantic, and scared, and you had no idea why.

"Sam, what is it?" You asked, your fight to leave forgotten. His breathing had gone ragged, his hand tense in your hair.

"How long have you had this?" He asked you, and you glanced out of the corner of your eye, confused.

"How long have I had what?" You asked him.

Sighing, he pulled out a flashlight from his pocket, shining it onto your neck, and you gasped in shock and horror. What had been clear skin fifteen minutes ago was now covered in thick black veins. They traveled up from your chest, heading towards your head.


	91. Veins

"What the hell are those? Where did they come from?" You freaked out, running your hand across the veins, making sure they weren't some sort of hallucination. You could only see a glimpse of them, and you lifted your shirt from your chest, looking down to see them branching up from inside your bra. 

Sam had stepped back, a worried look upon his face. "Y/N, don't worry, we will figure something out. I'm working on a cure myself." He said, before showing you his neck which also had some of the thick black veins. 

"What the hell is it?" You asked. "Did you infect me?" 

He shook his head. "I think you were infected at the start, but it didn't show up until you woke up. But don't worry, we will figure this out together."

You moved away from the door, sliding down into the bench, the stress from the day getting to you. "Will we die? What does this sickness do, anyways?" 

He sat down next to you, his long body curling in on itself in despair, making you even more depressed. "It affects our minds, turns us into rabid beasts, before we die. Maybe I should call Dean, get him back here. He can help me so we can cure you."

"Why don't you wait. I don't remember this Dean, and I don't think we need another thing getting in the way of getting us healed." You said, but truthfully you didn't want to look in someone else's eyes and see disappointment when you didn't recognize them. You were already having a hard enough time with everything.

"He would want to know." Sam argued, but he looked at your face and sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to win this fight. "Fine, but we need to leave here, head back up to the room I'm using for research."

You nodded, still surprised at how easy you were trusting this man. Maybe you did really know him. You stood up, waiting for him to move the bench when visions filled your mind, crumpling you to your knees. You saw images of a club with vicious looking men in it, men trying to attack you. It was terrifying, and you collapsed in on yourself. It took Sam a couple of minutes to reach through to you. "Y/N, it's not real, you've got to fight it." He kept saying over and over again.

When you had finally calmed down, you allowed him to pull you to your feet, taking deep, steadying breaths. "What was that?" You asked him.

"It's the visions. They go with the sickness. What did you see?" He asked, as he opened the door.

"A club. It was full of all sorts of menacing men, men who wanted to feed off of me, or worse." You said, shuddering. "Good thing it wasn't real."

He looked at you then, his hazel eyes full of sadness. "Don't get upset. But it was real. You were a prisoner there, for a long time. The sickness is probably bringing back bad memories."

You sucked in a deep breath, coughing as it choked you. You couldn't believe that those visions were real. What had your life even been like? And how did you survive something as horrifying as that? "Who the hell was I?" You asked in a hushed whisper as Sam led you back out into the hallway.

"We don't have time to get in that now. We need to get you cured, and fast." He said, his gaze softening as he glanced back at your neck. You felt as if the veins were crawling, inching up your skin, like a parasite, and you wanted to rip them off. Touching them, you felt a burning pain run through your neck, and you pulled your hand back.

Groaning in frustration, you followed Sam, back through the cluttered hallways, past bodies that carried the same black veins that were crawling up your neck. You shuddered, hoping that Sam could find a cure before their fate became yours. He led the way up the stairs, a gun in his hands as he scoped out the place. You stayed right behind him, trying to be as quiet as possible, almost caught off guard when he stopped in front of a door. "In here." He whispered, and you opened the door, stepping inside. He checked to make sure you weren't followed before shutting it, and locking the door. You looked around, seeing a green army bag, along with some other weapons, and a laptop strewn around the table in front of you. 

But when you turned back to Sam, he was leaning heavily against a chair, his eyes screwed as tightly shut as possible, his face full of pain. "Sam?" You asked, stepping towards him.

"No stay away!" He yelled, his face showing how terrified he was. You couldn't tell if he was afraid of you, or what his visions were making him see, but you took another step closer to him, wanting to help the man who was trying to help you.

"I said stay back!" He yelled, swiping his hand forward, colliding with your cheek, knocking you off balance. Falling to the floor, you watched as he seemed to gain a little composure, stumbling over to the table, completely forgetting about you. Mumbling under his breath, he scrolled through his computer, as you slowly came to your feet.

You stayed back, going around him, not wanting to get knocked to the ground again. As you rounded the corner, you felt your head start to pound, the start of another sickness induced vision ready to make it's appearance. You glanced back at Sam, seeing him busy working on something, as you crumpled to the ground. This one was much stronger than the last, and as you raised your hands to your head, you saw that the veins had spread to your hands. Groaning in pain, your eyes closed, as more visions of the club, and fangs heading towards your neck were the only things you could see. 

Muttering no over and over again, you were relieved when the club disappeared. But what took it's place was almost worse. You were tied up to a chair, your body naked except for the cuts and blood running down it. A man was standing in the shadows, blood dripping from his hands as he held the knife that had caused you so much pain. It flashed in and out, and you felt yourself pulling your hair, trying to stop the horrifying images that were crusading through your mind. 

"Y/N!" A voice said loudly next to your ear, but you were too lost in the pain in your head, and you couldn't snap out of it. It was then you felt warmth, close to your neck. It was enough for you to open your eyes, and you opened them to see flames seriously close to your neck. You tried scrambling back, away from the flaming cotton ball, but a strong arm held you immobile. "Trust me Y/N." A voice said, but in your haze you didn't recognize it.

Still trying to fight, to get away, you winced as it came closer, burning the veins covering your neck. A garbled scream left your lips, the pain astounding. "I'm so sorry." The voice kept saying over and over, as you were held still.

It seemed like the pain lasted forever, but it was probably only a minute before all the black veins were burned away. You were left panting on the ground, a pair of strong arm's wrapped around you. Taking a deep breath, you looked up into a pair of hazel eyes. Eyes that you remembered, from the person who had promised to help you, saying he already knew you. "Thank you Sam. Are we healed?"

He nodded, a smile joining both of your voices at the realization that you were both going to be okay. Caught up in the moment, you leaned forward, your gaze on the pair of pink lips in front of you. You felt Sam's body tense, but you didn't care, you were so caught up in the fact that you wanted to kiss the man holding you. Your lips had almost collided with his, when he dropped you on the floor, crawling back from you as if you had burnt him.

"Sam?" You asked, confused. You had thought there might have been something going on between the two of you, but the look he was giving you showed he was more than a little distraught at the idea of kissing you.


	92. Awkward

You sat there watching Sam, wondering what you had done wrong, if you had read him wrong. He had seemed so nice, so willing to help you, and he knew you too. You had just assumed that there might be something between the two of you, but the look of absolute horror on his face was enough to nix that idea. "Sam?" You asked, wanting him to say something, anything.

His face was bright red, his mouth hanging open as he stared at you. But what you also noticed was he was healed as well, no more hideous black veins crawling up his neck. "Y/N, you know we can't do that, right? I'm the wrong brother. If Dean finds out we kissed, or almost kissed, he will have my head. He won't care if you don't have your memory or not!"

"No, I don't know anything. I don't remember anything! I wish I did. But you were here, you were so nice, helping me, and we just seemed like we had been close at one point. And I don't even know this Dean guy. I just assumed..." You said, your voice trailing off at the end. You knew what people said about assumptions, but it had just seemed so obvious.

He stood up, running his hand through his hair as he came over to you. Holding his hand out, he pulled you off of the floor, before patting you awkwardly on the shoulder. "I know, and we will figure this out. But you love Dean, my brother. Just wait and see. Maybe when you see him all your memories will come back."

You nodded, just as his phone rang in his pocket. "Speaking of which." Sam said, before pressing the green button. "Hey Dean."

You listened to Sam's side of the conversation, not understanding much. Supposedly Dean was helping an officer lady with a baby, and it was taking longer than he thought.

"Yeah, I'm fine here. But hurry up because I have a surprise here for you. And I think it's better if you see it in person, than me telling you over the phone." Sam told Dean, his gaze on you.

"Nope, that's all I'm going to say. I found a cure, and I'm going to try to help these people until you get your butt back here." Sam said before hanging up.

"Why didn't you tell him about me?" You asked curiously. Sam just shrugged as he put his phone away. He turned to the table grabbing his bag, and an old urn. 

"Because it's not something I want to talk about over the phone. Now, come on. You can help me try to help these people." 

You followed along because you weren't sure what else to do. Sam lead the way carefully back down to the chapel you had been in earlier. Once inside, you stood off to the side, watching as he moved all the furniture out of the way, before pulling the urn out. He began pouring a clear, yellowish liquid on the floor in a huge circle.

"What are you doing?" You asked him, wondering if maybe he had some after effects of the illness making his mind fuzzy.

"It's holy oil. When lit, it's what cured you and me. We're going to try to lure some of the people infected into here, and cure them." He told you, as he set up his phone with a make shift speaker. 

"What do you want me to do?" You asked, as a video clip started playing loudly in the room.

Looking proud with himself, he pointed to the doors. "Why don't you stand hidden, by the doors. Then when they come in, you can close them, locking them in here."

"Isn't that dangerous?" You asked, earning a deep chuckle from the man.

"Yeah, but it's the only way I can think of to cure these people." He answered, moving off to the other side of the door, a lighter held in his hand.

You moved too, standing in the shadows near the door on the right. "Sam, you are such a good person. Like truly. Most people wouldn't think twice about saving those already infected." 

He shrugged off your complement, seeming like he was doing nothing spectacular. Before you could say more, you heard shuffling footsteps in the hallway, and Sam placed a finger on his lip, warning you to be quiet. You nodded, more than a little nervous, as people began shuffling into the room.

They didn't notice either of you, which you were extremely grateful for. They walked right into your circle, and that's when Sam nodded. Slamming the door shut, you backed up, back into the shadows, as Sam strode forward. Each person had the thick black veins climbing their neck, looking almost like a zombie, their eyes blank. Sam lit the circle, and the fire spread completely around it. You could hear the disgruntled groans and moan coming from the people inside, turning to screams as their black veins started to burn away. 

You hadn't been conscious enough when Sam had healed you, so you were very curious about what was going on in front of you. It took only moments, but the veins faded away, the people's eyes once again lucid as they glanced around the room.

"Are we..." One young girl asked Sam, as the two of you stepped out of the shadows.

"Yes, you're healed." He said, as the holy fire's flame started to burn down, before there was nothing left. 

"Thank you!" Each person said, as they tried to check their necks. Sam gave them a smile before grabbing his phone, and turning to you.

"Come on. Dean should be here by now." He told you. You followed him out the door, and to the front of the hospital, your heart full of trepidation at seeing this man you were told meant so much to you. Would seeing him make your memories come back? Or would he be upset that you couldn't remember him. You almost wanted to turn around, go back into the safety of the chapel. But in your heart you knew you weren't a coward.

Taking a deep breath, you watched as Sam pushed the front door open, and you followed him down the short stairs. There was a shiny, black car parked out front, a man leaning against it. You stayed behind Sam, not wanting to see this man until you absolutely had to. 

"So Sam, what's the surprise?" A very familiar deep voice said, surprising you with how familiar it sounded.

Sam seemed surprised that this man couldn't see you, but then he realized you were hiding behind him. Without giving you a choice, he stepped to the side, leaving you in plain sight of Dean.

"Y/N!" He exclaimed, rushing forward to take you in his arms, but you stepped back, still a little unsure. Sure his voice sounded familiar, and his green eyes were hauntingly familiar, but you weren't sure. "Where have you been?"


	93. Purple

"Where have you been?" Dean asked you, as you continued to stare at him while standing as close as possible to Sam. 

"I'm not sure. I woke up here." You stuttered, a little flustered under his heavy gaze. He was handsome, that was for sure, and you could immediately feel a connection to him. It was just frustrating that you had no idea what that connection was, or what it meant for you.

"Dean, listen. Y/N was here the whole time I think. I found her in the morgue when I was looking for supplies for a cure." Sam explained.

"Well that's weird. What the hell were you doing in the morgue? You just vanished after that cloud." Dean said, taking a step towards you, and in turn you took a step back. He noticed, and his frown increased. "And why are you so scared of me? See, the Mark's gone."

"Dean, she..." Sam started to say, but you spoke up for yourself.

"I don't remember you!" You exclaimed. "I don't remember anything except for waking up in the morgue.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" Dean grumbled. "Why can't we have something normal happen to us for once. Something good? I'm so sick and tired of this. Maybe God doesn't want us to be together." You heard him say, even though he muttered it quietly. But the venom behind the words, the desperation and despair, had your heart breaking for the man you couldn't even remember.

"Dean, calm down. We will figure this out. We just need to get back to the bunker. Maybe the men of letters have something that will help." Sam said, trying to ease the tension that was as tight as a string between the two of you.

"The bunker?" You asked softly, noticing how Dean's pupils in his emerald green eyes grew wider at your words. He sighed, your words seeming to disappoint him more than anything.

"Yeah, the bunker. Our home. A place you say you absolutely love." Dean told you. His hand moved forward, as if he was reaching for yours, but a look of indecision crossed his face and he dropped it.

"Well, let's go. Whats the worst that could happen?" You asked, jogging down to the car before sliding into the backseat. Once they were both inside, Dean started the car, and the awkward road trip began.

_____________________________________

"Seriously? This is the bunker? It's amazing!" You said while standing in the middle of the library, turning in a circle.

Dean chuckled, before dropping everyone's bags on the table. "Yeah, it's home." He agreed.

"No, it's not just home, it's like a hidden world, that's just for us! I love it!" You exclaimed, watching as the beginning of a smile had the side of Dean's lips tilted up. 

"Of course. You always said this place was always better than the dream of a normal house and white picket fence." He told you, and your mood dimmed a little bit upon remembering, well that you couldn't remember anything.

"I'm sorry Dean." You whispered, even though it was only the two of you in the room. Sam had already gone on to one of the storage rooms, looking for answers.

He grabbed two crystal glasses, filling them with whiskey before handing you one. "What are you sorry for?"

Taking a sip, you let it burn down your throat before you answered him. "I know this can't be easy for you. I can already feel this connection between us. My body remembers you, and I think my subconscious does too. I'm just sorry I'm making life more difficult than it already is." 

He set his cup down before grabbing your hands. You let him, the familiar spark running from his hands, all the way up your arms. "You don't have to apologize, not for this. We will get your memories back, and then we will find out why they were taken in the first place. I just wish Cas was here, he might have an idea of what to do."

"Cas?" You repeated, the name rolling easy off of your tongue. 

"Yeah, he's an Angel and a buddy of ours. But I received a weird phone call from him, and now there's nothing." Dean said, worry creating lines in his forehead. 

It was then you heard the thunderous sound of Sam's footsteps as he raced up the hallway, stopping when he reached the door. His hands were full, multiple storage boxes in his arms. His shirt was dusty, and you were pretty sure there was a cobweb stuck in his hair. "Hey guys, I think there will be something in here."

He plopped them down in front of you on the table, and soon the three of you became covered in dust as you pulled out file folder after file folder. You weren't exactly sure what you were looking for, but the looking was interesting. There were folders in here about different monsters, different reversal spells, even about Dorothy herself. "Wait, Dorothy is real? As in the one who went to Oz?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, we met her around a year ago. Interesting person.

Hours passed, and you found your eyes drifting shut on more than one occasion. Dean finally noticed, and you jumped when you felt his arms sliding underneath you. "Shhh, let's get you to bed." He whispered into your ear, and you relaxed, letting your head rest against his solid and warm chest. He carried you down the hallway, shoving a door open with his shoulder, before gently laying you down on the bed. You turned to your side, ready to let sleep over take you, but he had different ideas. 

You heard him rumbling about for a moment, before he came back. "Sit up." He ordered, but you just mumbled incoherently, before snuggling deeper into the bed that smelled like him. "Come on sweetheart, let's get you out of those clothes and into something more comfortable."

He helped you sit up, your eyes still closed until he reached for the hem of your shirt. That woke you up. "Woah, what do you think you're doing?" You asked.

"I told you. I'm helping you get ready for bed. And it's not like I haven't seen it before. Honey, I always enjoy this view." He told you, and you blushed furiously.

"You're probably right. But until I get these stupid memories back, it just feels a little weird." You told him. You watched as his shoulders drooped a little bit, but he gave in. Handing you the simple shirt, he stepped back.

"I get it, I guess. I'm going to head back, and help Sammy some more. You try and get some sleep." He said, backing out of the room. As soon as he was gone, you stripped, pulling on the worn and soft t-shirt. 

Slipping back into bed, you cuddled tightly into one of the pillows, a major headache forming. You knew it was from all that happened the past day. It was so frustrating, this not remembering. Not just for you, but for them too. You knew that Dean was hurting, and you wished you could do more to help him. But, until you could remember, you weren't sure how.

You weren't sure how long it was, but you finally relaxed enough to sleep. It wasn't an easy sleep, you kept tossing and turning, visions filling your mind. Visions of Dean, with his black eyes, towering above you, being cruel and hurtful. Visions of Dean, holding you close as you watched a meteor shower on the hood of the Impala. You weren't sure if these were things your mind was making up, or if they were truly memories, but it felt nice to have something solid to hold on to, even if the first vision scared you immensely. 

As you tried to fall back asleep for the third time, you heard the door squeak open, the light turning on, before footsteps headed your way. "Y/N, are you awake?" Came Dean's voice. 

You sat up in the bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You weren't sure if you felt better, or worse after your attempted nap. "I think so."

"Here drink this." He told you, thrusting a glass into your hands. Looking down, you turned your nose at the vile looking liquid it held. 

"What the hell is this?" You asked him, holding it far away from you.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, just as Sam came into the room. "We scoured every inch of those files, and this is the only thing we could find that might work. It was used when one of them had gotten into a car accident and lost their memory. It worked for him, hopefully it will work for you."

You glanced down again at the thick, almost purple in color liquid. An odor came off of it, smelling like a mixture of grapes, whiskey, and old gym socks, not a great combination. Taking a deep breath, you pinched your nose shut before gulping it down in one shot. Even with your nose pinched, you could still taste the disgusting liquid as it slid down your throat, and you found yourself gagging.

Holding a hand over your mouth, you waited for it to settle in your stomach. Once you felt like it wouldn't come back up, you moved your hand, only to let out the most disgusting burp that had ever left your mouth. Dean chuckled deeply, and you looked a little embarrassed.

"Now what?" You asked, not feeling any different. Dean looked to Sam, who shrugged.

"They didn't say to do anything else." He explained, but then you started to feel different. A warmth spread from your belly, heading up your body, before entering your head. It wasn't painful, but the pressure kept growing and growing in your head, and soon you closed your eyes, holding your head that felt like it could fall off at any minute.

"Y/N?" Dean asked worriedly. 

You couldn't answer him, as all of your memories came flooding back, pounding your brain as they tried to fit themselves back in. Your headache returned, ten fold, and you felt yourself swaying on the bed. 

"Damn it Sam! Maybe we shouldn't have trusted it." Dean yelled, helping you lay back on the bed. But just as soon as the pain started, it ended, and you felt wonderful.

"Y/N?" Dean asked cautiously as you laid still in his arms.

"Hey Dean." You answered him back, opening your eyes to see his staring down at you. "It's nice to be back."

You felt his sigh of relief, before he crushed you to him in a tight hug. You held on tightly, grateful to be back in his arms. "Wait!" You said, pulling back a little, looking down at his arm. "The Mark, it's still gone, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah thanks to you and Sam who refused to give up. But now we have a bigger problem on our hands." He told you, ruining the happy moment.

You thought back to what happened after the incident with Death in the restaurant. "That Bitch!" You exclaimed.

Both Sam and Dean jumped at the venom in your words. "Who?" Dean asked you.

"She called herself the darkness. She wanted me out of the way, because she's connected to you. That's why I was in the hospital. That's why I couldn't remember anything, and why I had that stupid sickness." You told him.

"Wait a minute. You talked to her too?" Dean asked you, his arms tense as they held your shoulders. 

"Yeah, during the storm. She pulled me from the car, wondering what was so great about me. She wanted to see why I held such a high place in your heart. Then she said she needed me out of the way." You explained, watching as a frown etched itself on his face.


	94. Time

After your rant about the Darkness, Sam had left the room, leaving you and Dean alone. After he quietly shut the door behind him, you and Dean stayed silent. You tugged at the covers, not sure what was going to happen, or what Dean was going to say.

Your lives had been so full of trials and tribulations lately. Your relationship had more than suffered because of them, and you knew if you couldn't pick up the pieces now, then there was no saying what would happen to it.

As Dean sat down on the edge of the bed, you thought back to a time more balanced and happier. It was sad, because as a hunter, your life never seemed happy. But back in the beginning stages of your relationship it had been. You had been so hungry for Dean, for anything he would toss your way. A stray touch, a long gaze, any of those things you treasured deeply. But it was when he returned those feelings that things became even better. Stolen moments in the back of the Impala, quick texts back and forth at diner's when you thought Sam wasn't noticing.

It hadn't been long before your relationship had come out into the open, and you didn't regret it a single bit. Sam had found out one day, and just shrugged his shoulders, and like that it was ojay. You had slowly moved your things into his room, and it hadn't been much later you had accidentally muttered those three little words you had been embarrassed to say.

It was during a lazy drive back to the bunker, Sam asleep in the back, your head resting on Deans shoulder as he traversed the darkened highway. He was busy brushing his hand up and down your arm, and the words I love you sneaked out past your lips, and it was too late too take them back. You had stiffened, and his hand had stilled. You had waited for him to brush it off, saying you didn't mean it. Instead, his callused hand traveled down your arm before connecting with yours. "I love you too." He answered simply, calming your nerves.

"Earth to Y/N." Dean's voice rang through your memories. Coming back to the present, you found out that Dean had sat down on the bed next to you and his hand was currently cupping you cheek.

Blushing, you gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I was lost in my own memories."

He pulled his hand back, his thumb brushing against your lip before falling down to his lap. "Good memories I hope? You had a smile on your face."

You nodded, tilting your head down until your hair covered your face "Yeah, one of the best. I was thinking back to the beginning of our relationship, and when we first said the words I love you."

His hand reached out, grasping yours as the two of you sat together, your knees just barely touching. "I remember that. One of my favorite memories. Let's see, I think we were just getting ready to cross the Wyoming border, and Sam was snoring logs in the back. My heart stopped when you blurted out those words. I never considered myself good enough to be loved by you. I was shocked, and humbled."

You dropped your head until it rested against his shoulder, enjoying this moment a calm and reflective moment the two of you didn't get to have too often. "I was amazed when you said it back. I thought how could such an amazing man be in love with me? I guess we both consider ourselves screw ups."

He tilted your head up, pressing his lips to yours. It was soft and easy, and almost brought a tear to your eye. Nothing had been simple lately, and you were so tired of things getting messed up.

He reluctantly released your lips, giving you one of his mega watt smiles. He slid back in the bed until his back rested against the headboard. "Come here." He said, holding his arm out. You complied, sliding up until you were resting against his chest, his arm resting against your side.

"Do you know how scared I was when I couldn't find you? Especially since Death had hurt you. The storm had gone, and so had you. I scoured all around that area, trying to find you. Sam finally had to pry me away." Dean whispered against your hair.

Taking a deep breath, you ran your fingers lightly up and down his chest. "It was so weird. One minute I was laying in pain in the back of the Impala, the next The Darkness stood in front of me, healing me so she could talk to me. But Dean, she scares me." You admitted.

"She scares me too. You weren't the only one who she talked to. She wants me by her side. And Y/N, I don't know if I can fight her. I don't love her, but she has this draw that's hard to resist." He told you, admitting things he wouldn't to anyone else.

"We will figure things out. We're back together, you don't have the Mark anymore. We can deal with this." You said, sounding braver than you felt.

Just then a knock came on the door, before Sam peered in. "Sorry to interrupt you, but I figured you might want to see this."

Dean glanced sadly down at you. "I'm sorry. Let's do this, then we can come back and talk some more. It's been nice, we haven't had much of a chance lately. And I need to make it up to you, for all I did when I had the Mark."

"Dean you don't have to..." You started, but he had already slid out from underneath you, moving towards his brother. Eighing, you stood up, following them out of the room. Sam led the way, back into the library, to the corner. You tried to see around thrm, but their tall, muscled bodies left no room for you, and you stayed in the back, waiting until they gave you some sort of clue.

"Cas?" Dean's questioning voice rang out, surprising you. You wanted to go around Dean, to see your Angel friend, but Dean raised a hand, keeping you behind him.

"Dean, I need your help. Rowena, she, she spelled me. And I can't stop it." He growled, and Dean switched his weight on his feet, giving you a view of your friend, and his red rimmed eyes with bloody tears rolling down.

You stepped back as Dean helped Cas to his feet guiding him to one of the tables. He sat down with a plop, acting extremely tired, which was unusual for the Angel.

"What happened to you Cas?" You asked, moving to sit down next to him but he flinched back from you. You looked toward Dean, who just shrugged his shoulder before pulling you into the seat next to him.

"Alright Cas, start from the beginning." Dean said, holding tightly to your hand. Cas leaned forward, grabbing Dean's other arm, looking for the Mark.

"I know you said it was gone, but I needed to see for myself." Cas said. 

Dean pulled his arm back. "It's gone, I'm good. But what about you? What's this about a spell?"

Cas sat back, looking like a beaten little puppy dog, and your heart bled for him. "We did the spell, it was Rowena, Crowley and I. But then she freed herself, grabbed the book, and spelled me to attack and kill her son. It was her attack dog spell."

"Did you kill Crowley?" Sam asked him, but Cas just shrugged.

"I thought I did. But Crowley is a crafty Demon, so who's to say. But this spell, it keeps digging in, getting worse. I don't know how to get rid of it." Cas said.

Dean stood up, walking around to place his hand on his friends shoulder. "Well, for right now you can stay here, and rest. Go take a shower, we'll get you some clean clothes. Because I don't know what you've been up to with that spell, but you are filthy and covered in blood."

Cas nodded, before standing up, and you followed suit. "Come on Cas, follow me. I bet I can find something of Dean's for you to wear."


	95. Attack Dog

You felt horrible for Cas. Even after a shower, and some new clothes, he still looked like just a shell of the powerful Angel he was. His entire body trembled, even wrapped in a heavy wool blanket, his eyes bloodshot, dark circles underneath. 

At one point, you had gone over to help him, wanting nothing more than to soothe your friend, but the spell became too much for him to handle, and he jumped you, wrapping his hands around your neck, attempting to choke you. Both Sam and Dean had to pull him off, and he fought their hold, growling at you, as if he was a dog. You scooted back, trying to get away from him, each breath painful through your battered throat. Dean finally pulled out a pair of handcuffs, chaining him to the spot so he couldn't hurt himself, or anyone else.

After he was secured, Dean came over to check on you, wrapping you up tightly in his arms. "Y/N, are you alright?" He asked, as he took in the bruises that were already beginning to form on your neck.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. But we need to find a cure, or Rowena, quick." You stated, as Cas started convulsing in his chair, before toppling over.

"Cas!" Dean exclaimed, rushing from you over to the fallen Angel, helping him back into his chair. "What was that?"

"I think the spell is strengthening." He stuttered. "I feel like my insides have gone through a food processor."

"You know what one of those are?" Dean asked, before Sam smacked his shoulder.

You sat down at the table, opening the laptop, looking for any sort of clues, or whereabouts of Rowena. It wasn't long before something jumped out at you. "Hey guys, look at this!"

Dean came to stand behind you, his hand resting comfortably on your shoulder. It was an article about a restaurant, and how these ladies were killed by a man. A man witnesses swore was wearing black contacts. "Hey, witches. There was one survivor. Maybe she will have an idea where Rowena is, or at least maybe a counter spell."

"The restaurant does seem like something Rowena would frequent." Sam agreed. "Let's go."

"But guys." You argued, what should we do about Cas? I don't want to just leave him there, chained up by himself."

Dean looked over at Cas, who was sitting there, his head tilted back, his eyes closed in pain. "We could lock him in the dungeon?"

"Why don't you two go, I'll stay back and keep an eye on our friend." You suggested, already seeing the frown form on Dean's face. You knew he wouldn't like your suggestion, but you weren't sure what else you could do.

"No, Y/N, he just attacked you. I can't have that happen again." Dean argued, just like you knew he would.

Sighing, you turned around in your seat, giving Dean a look that told him you were done with his arguing. "I won't let it happen again. We will keep him handcuffed, and I promise I won't get too close. But we need someone here, and if worse comes to worse, I can try to transport him to where you are instead of bringing Rowena here."

Dean pulled you to your feet, holding you tight to him. "I don't like it, but it's the best plan we have." He whispered into your ear. "Just please be careful, and check in with me a lot. I feel like our relationship is finally in the green, and I don't want anything to happen."

"Dean, don't worry. I will be careful. Now go get that witch, and hurry back to me." You ordered him, and he gave you a quick peck on the cheeks before leaving to follow Sam. Sighing, you sat back down in the chair, sharing stares with Cas.

"Y/N, you should have gone with them. It isn't safe her with me, I'm not safe. You should've locked me in the dungeon." He pleaded with you, but you shook your head.

"No Cas, you're our friend, I couldn't do that to you. Now why don't you try to relax." You told him, before turning back to your laptop, figuring you could use the free time to see if you could find anything about Amara, and how to defeat her.

_____________________________________________________________

Hours later, you finally received a call from Dean, saying they had cased the wrecked restaurant, and were currently getting ready to interview the witness, who they were pretty sure was a witch also. 

"How's Cas?" He asked you, and you peered at the sleeping man. 

"I don't know. He feel asleep shortly after you guys left, and hasn't woken up since. I'm afraid to get to close, to see if he's breathing." You admitted.

"Don't. Stay back. He's probably just exhausted from the spell." Dean ordered from hundreds of miles away.

Shutting your laptop, you leaned back in your chair. "Dean, I wasn't going anywhere close, I'm not that stupid." You replied.

"I know you aren't. Listen, I've got to go. I'll let you know when we're done here." He said, before hanging up.

Your stomach rumbling, you gave one last glance to the sleeping Cas, before heading into the kitchen. Rattling around the pots and pans, you decided to make a quick batch of mac and cheese, wanting some comfort food. Turning the radio on, you waited for the water to boil, humming along to the random song. 

Turning to grab the milk from the fridge, you froze in your spot, your heart beating fast as you found Cas leaning against the door frame. He was breathing heavily, his eyes even more red if that was possible, the lines in his forehead prominent as he frowned at you.

"Y/N." He croaked, taking a step towards you, and you stepped back. 

"Cas, let's go back out into the library, get you back in that chair where you will be safe." You tried reasoning with him, but he continued taking slow agonizing steps your way, blocking the only exist. Grabbing the knife next to you, you said a brief prayer that you wouldn't have to use it.

"Y/N, it's too late. I need to get out of here." He said, before closing the gap between you, grasping you in his arms. 

"Cas!" You exclaimed, just as your phone in your pocket started going off. "Cas, let me go!"

"Give me your keys! I need to leave here." He kept repeating over and over, and you pointed to the table, where you had laid them down last night. Without letting go of you, he reached over and grasped them.

Raising the knife, your hand shaking, you pleaded with him again. "Cas, please, don't make me do this."

He saw the knife, and he grabbed your wrist, squeezing until you had no choice but to drop it.

His other hand grabbed your hair, yanking your head back, and you felt it connect with the corner of the counter. Pain exploded in your head, ringing sounds from both it and your phone running through your head before you felt yourself go limp in Cas' arms. 

______________________________________________________

"Ughh." You groaned as you came to with a start. Your head was pounding, and the person driving wasn't making it any better as they took turns way too fast. Opening your eyes, you watched as Cas drove your car down deserted streets, turning sharply enough that you kept hitting your head against the window.

"Cas, where are we going?" You asked him, your brain still foggy.

"Must find Metatron." He said, his voice even hoarser than usual, and that's what triggered your memories. Cas was still under the watch dog spell, and you were currently trapped in the vehicle with him. With a man that could turn on you at any moment.


	96. Saving a Friend

The red dripping down Cas' face seemed louder, more prominent, the blues of his eyes turning a dull, dingy blue. His lip was curled back in a snarl, his hands slowly inching closer to you. Glancing frantically around, you saw that Cas had parked, somewhere in the middle of a big city.

"Cas, wait." You stuttered, as his hand grasped your, painfully tight. 

"I can't help it." He growled. "Get out of here before I do something I'll regret."

You didn't need to be told twice. Unlocking the door, you yanked your hand out his grasp, wincing as your wrist protested the movement. Shoving your legs out the door, you ran down the darkened and empty sidewalk, almost tripping as you turned to see if he was following you. 

You slowed down once you realized he wasn't. In fact, he had gone the other way, stumbling and running into the walls as he headed deeper into the more run down part of this town, wherever you were. Chewing on your bottom lip, you considered your options. One, you could get as far away from him as possible, before getting a hold of Dean. Or, two, you could follow your friend, and make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble. Because that's what he would do for you. He's been there for you when you needed him, and when Dean's need him. Now was time to return the favor.

"Shit." You muttered under your breath, hurrying back to the car, grabbing the keys that were still in the ignition, before reaching under your seat and grabbing the pistol you always kept hidden there. Locking the car, you shoved the gun in the back of your pants before running down the sidewalk the way you had last see him.

He was nowhere in site, and you stopped at the corner, leaning against a rough brick wall, keeping your eyes on a pair of hoodlums who were obviously checking you out. Finally remembering you had your phone in your pocket, you pulled it out, noticing over ten missed calls, and that many text messages. All from Sam and Dean, mainly Dean. "Shit." You muttered again, pressing off a quick text message, telling them to track your phone, that Cas had escaped.

You heard rumbling from where Cas had gone, and you turned to follow him, but a rough hand grasped your wrist. "Hey, pretty lady. What's a girl like you doing out here, by herself? It's not safe."

Turning to face your newest opponent, you sighed when you realized it was the hoodlums. Up close, they had tattoos covering most of their bodies, with low slung pants, and ball caps facing backwards. There were three of them, but it seemed like the one holding your wrist was the ring leader. "Listen guys. I don't want any trouble. I just want to help my friend out. Let me go, and we can forget this ever happened."

The goon holding your wrist just cracked a smile, showing silver teeth, before he pulled on your arm. You were caught off balance, and you fell forward, right into him which is what he wanted. "Listen little girl. I think it would be better if you stayed with us. We can protect you better than your other friend. Hell, you'll probably enjoy being with us." He said, as his other hand crept down your back, before squeezing your ass. That was when you decided you had had enough. Thrusting your head back, you brought it forward with all your might, hearing the crunch of his nose as it broke. It worked, and he let go of your hand, cursing as he tried to stop the bleeding. The other two men came rushing forward, ready to come to the aide of their leader.

Grabbing the gun from your pants, you waved it around, stopping them in their tracks. "I asked for no trouble. But of course you didn't listen. Now, you're going to let me go, and not follow me, got it?"

They both nodded, their hands in the air, as their boss man was currently kneeling down, his hands still wrapped around his nose, blood gushing through his fingers. You kept your gun pointed at them as you turned the corner, before pocketing it once again, and running. You hadn't noticed where Cas had gone, but you needed to keep moving, away from those goons before they tried something else. 

One block, then two, and you finally stopped, gasping for air. You had no idea where you were, or where Cas was, and pulling out your phone, you saw the screen flash before it died. "Great." You muttered, turning in a circle, trying to get an idea of where you might be. You were in some sort of warehouse district, with big, old buildings surrounding you. Most seemed outdated, not used anymore, with the doors boarded up, and the windows cracked or shattered.

The cool night air whipped around you, causing shivers to run up and down your spine. You knew you were in trouble, that this was not a good part of town to be in, but you had no GPS, no idea how to get out of here. As you considered how stuck you were, you heard rumblings from the building across from you. Stepping closer to the side of the old brick building, you stood on tip toes, glancing inside the grimy window. 

Cas is wandering around in the building, shoving crates and boxes out of his way, grabbing his head as if he can't stand the pain anymore. You could stay out here, hoping Sam and Dean would find you soon, or you could go in, and try to talk to the Angel, to guide him back to your car. 

It was then you heard the voices behind you, those belonging to the hoodlum gang you had just escaped from. But what had only been three to begin with was now a group of eight or more, and you could see they were itching for a fight. "If I get my hands on that bitch again..." The one you had broken his nose, muttered, swinging a pipe in his hands. You saw the gleaming blade of a knife, and you knew there was no way you could outman them once again. Deciding you had no choice, you climbed onto the stacks of pallets in front of you, shimmying into the small broken window. Gasping when a piece of broken glass caught your hip, you bit your lip, trying to stop from crying out.

Finally you made it through, and you fell to the floor, a quiet umph your only sound as you hid behind a stack of boxes. You could still hear Cas puttering around, his growls annoyed, and you wondered what he was looking for.

"I can't..." He kept muttering, and it was then you realized he had locked himself in here as a last ditch effort to not hurt anyone. You stayed crouched in your spot, thinking as long as you were hidden, you could keep an eye on him until Sam and Dean arrived.

Pressing a hand to your hip, you winced when it came back covered in blood, the wound deep and seeping, and painful. You were so caught up in your own pain, that you hadn't noticed the boxes were no longer being flung around, and the warehouse was quiet, except for the sound of him sniffing the air like a dog. 

He can't smell my blood, can he, you asked yourself, trying to staunch the bleeding. Taking a deep breath, you moved forward a little, needing to look over the boxes protecting you, to see where he was, what he was doing. Slowly, ever so slowly, you lifted your body until your gaze was at the top of the boxes, then over. 

A pair of red rimmed blue eyes met your stare, and you scrambled back, your cut forgotten in your haste to get away from the spelled Angel. "Too strong. Can't control." He muttered, as he knocked all the boxes out of the way, striding over to you. Scrambling back on your feet and hands, you ran right into the wall, accidentally cornering yourself. 

"Cas, no." You started, holding your hands up, but the sight of the blood dripping down one palm seemed to excite the spell running through him, and he almost licked his lips at the sight of it.

He lunged forward, grasping your hand, pulling you with him. Kicking and hitting, you tried with everything to get away, moaning as your gun slid out of your pants, dropping on the ground. He had his hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you back into the center of the room, his other wrapped tight around your neck, where it was already bruised and battered from before.

You tried to fight, kicking at his knees, trying to knock him down, but his Angel grace along with the spell made him extremely strong, and you ended up clawing at his hands, needing a breath of air as black dots filled your vision. 

"Cas, let her go!" Dean's voice rang through the empty building, and if you hadn't been so busy trying to draw a breath you would have been relieved. But his hand tightened even farther around your neck, as he looked around the darkened room, trying to find where the voice was coming from.

"Cas, we have Rowena with us. She can take back the spell. Just let Y/N go so we can help you." Sam's reasoning voice came from the other side, as you heard a female whispering something beside him. 

"Can't stop." Cas muttered, shaking you like a rag doll, as you began to lose the urge to fight. As your eyes began to close on their own, you felt the movement of someone, or something behind you, before you heard the grunt as something hit Cas.

Once, twice, Cas was hit, but his grip on you hadn't loosened, and you were beginning to lose hope that it would before you could be saved. "Damn it Cas, let go!" Dean exclaimed, right next to you, before hitting Cas again, and this time his hand released, and you fell to the ground, panting hard, trying to take big, deep breaths through your battered throat.

"Now Sam!" Dean yelled, as he leaned down and scooped you up in his arms. You could barely see Sam pushing Rowena forward, who muttered some foreign sounding words. Within seconds Cas dropped to the ground, unconscious, just as Rowena waved her hands, and Sam went flying, along with Dean, with you in his arms.

"Guys, this has been fun, but I do need to get going. Until next time." Rowena said, before leaving you behind in the warehouse.

Sam pushed himself out of the stack of boxes he had flown into, before coming over and taking you from Dean so Dean could stand up. Dean then grabbed you from Sam's arms, holding you tight to his chest. "I knew leaving you behind was wrong. I'm just glad we got here in time."

You nodded, needing the comfort of his arms around him. You turned your head, watching as Cas struggled to his feet. Sam went over, giving the Angel a helping hand, as Dean scooped you up his his arms once again. "Dean, I think I can walk!" You exclaimed, but he just shook his head.

"I don't care. You're sore, and I need this." He said, and you didn't argue any farther. He moved to leave the bunker, passing Sam and Cas. Cas looked at you with guilt eating at his face, his shoulders slumped. 

You wanted to say something to him, to let him know it wasn't his fault, but Dean had already carried you out into the night sky, where the Impala was waiting. Opening the door, he went to slide you in, when he realized there was blood on his hand, and darkening your jeans. "Y/N?" He asked, as he sat you down, pulling your shirt up, and your jeans down a little to uncover the deep gash.

"It's nothing. Just cut myself on glass." You told him, as he took off his own shirt, pressing it against the still seeping wound.

"It's not nothing. It needs stitches." He said, climbing into the back seat with you, just as Sam put Cas in the passenger seat.

"When we get back to the bunker." You muttered, your head leaning against his chest, exhausted. Sam started the Impala up, and you let yourself nod off as the four of you made your way back to the bunker.


	97. Back Together

"Y/N, we're here." Dean's voice sounded from somewhere up above you, and squinting your eyes open, you saw him start to wrap his arms around you.

"The bunker?" You mumbled, letting him slide his arms around you, effortlessly picking you up.

"Yep. Gonna clean you up and get you into bed." He promised as you felt yourself away with his body movement.

"Thanks Sammy." Deanls voice rumbled through his chest as he walked through the opened door to your shared room. Dean carefully placed you down on the bed, before grabbing your T-shirt and sliding it over your head. He winced at the dark line of bruises covering your neck, along with the ones shaped like a hand on your arm. "From Cas?" He asked, his fingers ghostly tracing the bruises on your neck.

You nodded, your throat still sore from the torment.

Frowning, Dean unbuttoned your jeans, moving to slide them down and you gasped in pain. The blood from the gash had dried your jeans to your skin, and it was pulling the sensitive skin.

"I'm sorry." He muttered, and with one yank freed your jeans from your skin, and you hissed.

The blood started flowing again, and Dean pressed your ruin shirt to it, before grabbing the first aide kit that was laying on the nightstand.

Taking deep breaths, you held onto the pillow, your knuckles white as he cleaned and stitched up the wound. Soon it was over, and he pulled a long, clean shirt over your head.

Your eyes were closed, but you heard rustling. Before you knew it, Dean had slipped in behind you, pulling you tight to him.

With the light still on, he could see the bruises around your neck, and you felt his body stiffen as he brushed your hair back from them. "I know he was under the spell. But every inch of me wants to find him, and beat him senseless."

"It's over, and we are all alright. That's all that matters." You assured him, as you felt yourself falling to sleep once again.

\--------------------------

The next morning you woke up, stretching, feeling only a slight discomfort in your hip and your neck.

Rolling onto your back, you were a little disappointed to not find Dean in the bed with you. A frown on your face, you slipped on his gray robe, making your way into the kitchen, needing coffee more than usual.

You heard voices, loud voices coming from the kitchen, showing both Winchester brothers were awake. Standing in the door frame, you watched with a slight smile on your face as Dean ironed both of their white shirts. It was a mundane task, a glimpse of normal in an other wise crazy life.

"Dean, stop ironing my shirts with beer!" He yelled as he pushed past you. "Y/N, you need to go back to ironing our shirts."

"Okay Sam." You answered, before moving in to grab a cup of coffee. "Really Dean, beer?"

He just shrugged, unplugging the iron. "It's straight, that's all that matters."

Sitting down at the table, you munched on an apple as he sat down next to you.

"So how's Cas?" You asked him, surprised to not see the Angel joining you in the kitchen. He always seemed to enjoy the room, especially when it was occupied.

"He's exhausted. That spell took a lot out of him. He's gonna stay behind, relax in the bunker while we go on this hunt." Dean explained. "He also feels bad about what happened to you." He said, his gaze dark as he looked at the bruises on your neck.

"A hunt? Since when was there a hunt?"

The look he gave you was one you hadn't seen for a while, his eyes lighting up with excitement, his mouth curved in a smile. It reminded you of the Dean you had first fallen in love with, and you lost yourself in it. "Since early this morning. Now if you want to go with us, you have five minutes."

You jumped up so fast, you almost knocked over your coffee cup. It seemed like forever since you had had a regular, monster of the week type hunt and you were excited. Kissing Dean on the cheek, you raced out of the room, already mentally planning everything you needed to do to get ready.

Within a half an hour you had showered, packed clothes, along with some books, just in case they decided to leave you behind at the motel. You walked past Cas' room, torn between wanting to see him, but also needing to stay away. You knew he felt guilty, and you didn't want him to, so you knocked on the door.

"Come in." Came his gravelly voice, and you opened the door to see him laying on a bed in only his suit pants and white shirt. He looked exhausted and ragged, a shell of the former strong Angel.

"How are you?" You asked quietly, fidgeting at the door.

"I should be the one asking you." He said, getting off the bed and coming your way. He reached his hand up, towards your neck, and you flinched, you couldn't help it. He dropped his hand, a look of pain crossing his face. "I'm weak, but I can heal that. I need to heal that."

You shook your head, not wanting him to weaken himself on you. "Cas, it's okay. Truly it is. Just worry about getting better. That's all that matters." You gave him a reassuring smile before leaving his room, hoping your resolution would help him. He had to forgive himself before he realized you had already forgiven him yourself.

Dean had already grabbed his bag and was in the garage, double checking his Baby before she made another long road trip. She gleamed in the low hanging lights, the thorough cleaning Dean had given her early this morning showing.

Sam arrived seconds after you, lugging his laptop bag along with his backpack. Tossing it into the trunk, he gave the Impala a once over. "Car looks nice Dean. But maybe next time you can wash it in regular clothes. Those shorts were the stuff of nightmares."

"You're just jealous you don't have legs like mine." Dean teased, causing you to laugh.

"Dean does have great legs." You agreed, causing Sam to groan as he slid in.

You had a huge smile on your face, the bickering reminding you of when you had first started traveling with the brothers.

"Let's get going!" You exclaimed impatiently, slapping the top of the front seat.

"Hey careful!" Dean admonished but he was already pulling onto the road. Stretching out in the backseat, you pulled out one of your books, planning on spending the next couple of hours doing something you hadn't had a chance to for a long time, relax.

As the road past by in a blur, you were more than content to get lost in your book, occasionally adding to the conversation Sam and Dean were currently having. After the third hour, you finished the book. Dropping it on the floor, you sat up so you could lean on the front seat, your head close to Dean's shoulder.

"How much longer?" You asked as he switched cassette tapes, playing a Led Zepplin one this time.

"Not until tomorrow." He told you, making you realize how little you actually knew about this hunt you were going on. "It's probably not even our type of thing, so I'm in no big hurry."

As he said that, he pulled into the gravel parking lot of a run down bar. A diner was across the street, but that was it, nothing else around for a couple of miles. "Dean, what are we doing here? There's not even a motel."

He shut the Impala off before giving you an exasperated look. "Seriously Y/N, you don't remember this place?"

You looked again at the place, with the wagon wheel fence, the neon sign with some of the letters darkened, the diner with its Formica counters and sparkly blue vinyl booths. "Should I?"

He sighed. "Y/N, this is where you and I finally decided to stop fighting our attraction for each other. Don't you remember? We were hustling pool, you were wearing this blue shirt unbuttoned lower than anything I had ever seen on you before. I actually lost that round I was so focused on you. Then we went out behind the bar where there's this old picnic table hidden by trees and..."

"Okay, that's enough for me. You two have fun with your memories, I'm gonna head to the diner." Sam grumbled, hopping out of the car. Deans loud laughter followed his brother as you sat there, the memories returning. You knew this place now. You had been thirsting after Dean for quite some time, figuring he never saw you quite the way you wanted him too. But then that night, you purposefully wore a tight fitting tank top, one that buttoned part way in the front. Leaving enough buttons undone to show quite an amount of cleavage, you paired it with your favorite pair of jeans, leaving your hair down.

"I remember." You admitted, feeling a blush creep up on your as your remembered exactly what happened behind that bar.

Dean slid out of the drivers seat, opening your door and pulling you out. "Want to go relive some memories?" He asked and you nodded, letting yourself be pulled into the dingy and dark bar.

\---------------------------

Your shirt stained, the buttons missing or in the wrong place, your hair going all different directions, you stumbled as Dean pulled you out of the bar and into the early morning sunlight. "I can't believe I let you talk me into that." You muttered, blushing at the thought of everything Dean had talked you into.

"Hey, I couldn't believe they still had that table out there! And you were the one who wanted to hustle those bikers. You won 500 dollars off of them!"

"I still have it." You said, giving him a high five and almost tripping over your own feet.

"Wonder if Sammy spent the night in the diner." Dean asked, wincing as the bright sun enhanced the hangover he was no doubt carrying. 

"Probably knowing him." You said, opening the back door without looking, tossing your coat inside. Your back stiffened when you heard a grunt, and your gaze shot down, then immediately back up. "Or maybe not." You muttered, keeping your gaze up, never wanting to see that much of Sam again.

A blonde sat up, finishing the buttons on her uniform as both you and Dean just stood there. Dean had a huge smile on his face, before you smacked him on the shoulder and he turned around. You heard Sam muttering something, and the blonde replying before she sauntered past you, making her way back to the diner. You waited another moment, until Dean cleared his throat, letting you know it was okay to look. Sam sat there, looking completely happy and disheveled, a goofy grin on his face. 

He moved to get out of the backseat and back into the passenger, but you shook your head. "No way. There is no way I'm going to sit back there, not with what I know just happened. You can stay back there for now."

Sliding into the passenger seat, you waited for the argument, but Dean just burst out into laughter before climbing in. "Hey, at least he put a blanket down. Smart boy."

You shook your head, pretending to be grumpy, but truthfully, you were in a great mood. You had an amazing night with Dean, doing some of the same things Sam had probably done, and here you were, traveling down the road with your two favorite people.

After turning the car on, Dean put in a cassette, a sly look on his face. Bob Seger filled the speakers, and you raised an eyebrow at him. Sam leaned forward. "Seriously, you're night moving me?"

"Shh." Dean said, as you realized what song it was. As he pulled out of the driveway, he started to sing along, teasing his brother, and it wasn't long before Sam joined in, and you listened, with a big smile on your face.


	98. Were-pire

The sing along did something you hadn't seen for a long time. Both brothers loosened up, acting as if they were still in their twenties and nothing mattered. You sat in the backseat, letting the brotherly banter continue, not wanting to interrupt it at all.

As the trip wore on, Dean and Sam would argue about anything and everything, sometimes dragging you into the conversation. As you sat there, munching on a burrito, you almost choked when Dean slapped his brother's hand away from the steering wheel. You almost wished you hadn't come along, just so the two brothers would have had a chance to get to be brothers again. They were close, so much closer than the past couple of years, but you knew they both yearned for the days of pranks, and no lies in between them.

Curling up in the corner of the seat, you drifted off, letting them argue, and banter, and anything else to their hearts content. Of course, as you sat there, your mind drifted from the happier moments happening in front of you, to worries of tomorrow. And Amara. That woman, whatever she was, scared you immensely. You knew, without a doubt, she had the power to remove you from Dean's side. It frightened you, the hold she seemed to have over Dean, how much she was drawn to him. She might be missing, for now, but sooner or later you were going to have to deal with her again, and you weren't ready.

"Hey." A voice sounded, as your knee was gently slapped. "Scoot over." You opened your eyes, to see Dean peering down at you from the other side of the backseat. Your brain still fuzzy, you could only stare at him, your brain and your body not connecting. 

"There's no hotel even close. We're gonna get a few hours of shut eye, then move on in the morning." He said, as he sat down with his back against the door. With one tug of his hand on yours, you were sprawled across his chest, and he took the opportunity to stretch out. "Mmm, haven't been in this position for a while. Too bad Sam's sleeping up front." He said softly, as his hands rubbed up and down your back, getting dangerously close to your butt.

"Hey, I heard that." Sam grumbled, and you could see the top of his head as he switched positions in the front seat. You were even amazed he fit up there laying down, but you knew if you looked over the seat he would look like a pretzel. 

"Hey, we weren't the ones taking the backseat for a ride last night." Dean teased, and you giggled, squirming as Dean's hands tickled against your sides. His touches gentled, and you found yourself being once again lulled to sleep, scooting down a little so Dean could get more comfortable. As you lay there in a state of unconsciousness, you hear Sam's voice, quiet and unsure. 

"Hey Dean, do you remember Mom's song that she always used to hum?" Sam asked softly, and you pretended to be asleep, even though truthfully you almost were.

"Yeah, the one Dad always played for us? Called Someday soon, or something like that. You were just humming it in your sleep." Dean answered, his hand still soothing on your back.

You heard rustling in the front seat, before Sam spoke again, his voice sounding timid, younger and more unsure of himself. "Dean, I think I'm having visions again. I think I had one just now. It was Dad, but it wasn't really him. He was younger, and said everything I wanted to hear, which was weird."

"Yeah, doesn't really sound like Dad." Dean agreed, his chest vibrating near your ear with his words. 

"Well, anyways, they said the three of us, we're the only one that can stop the darkness." Sam kept on. "Maybe it was a vision from God."

"Woah, stop right there." Dean's voice raised a little, his hand stilling. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, making sure not to wake you. "Why would you say God? He's long gone, and I don't think he's coming back."

"I prayed to him, and that's when the first vision happened. Back at that hospital, after Y/N and I were infected." Sam said, but Dean stopped him.

"You both were infected? Why didn't you tell me?" Dean asked, more than a little upset over the fact he didn't know.

"Dean, there were more important things to worry about. Like getting Y/N's memories back. And then I guess I just forgot."

"Shit." Dean muttered softly, before you felt him brush the hair away from your face. "So I almost lost her twice then. Thanks Sammy, for looking out for her."

"She's my family too Dean." Sam answered. "Do you ever think of settling down? I mean, I know it's too late to get out of this life. But you have Y/N. Do you ever wish for more with her?"

Dean was quiet for a moment, and you could almost hear the wheels turning in his brain. "Do you know what I dream of?"

"What?" Sam asked, almost surprised to be getting an actual answer from Dean, and not some blown off answer.

"I do dream of a normal life with Y/N. The whole white picket fence, the 2.5 kids. Hell, even a dog. But I also dream of a calmer life, one still lived in the bunker, with minor hunts and maybe even a kid. Just a life with her where we don't have to constantly worry about saving the damn world. Like you used to dream of having. And I hope you still do."

"Dean..." Sam started but Dean interrupted him.

"Do you know how many times I've thought of sending her away, getting her out of this life. So much has happened to her, I've thought I've lost her so many times. But she still comes back to me, and I love her so much for it."

"Y/N would kill you if you tried to ship her away. Haven't you realized that's not an answer. She loves you Dean, and she would rather battle monsters than be sent away. And she gets this life. That's hard to find." Sam argued.

"I know. Sammy, I know that. She's so amazing, I can't imagine life without her. You and her, you are the two things that keep me going." Dean said softly.

"Night jerk." Sam said fondly.

"Night bitch." Dean answered, before his arms tightened around you, and you finally fell asleep.

\----------------

You sat at the small, chipped table in your motel room, tapping away on the keyboard, looking for any new information. The three of you had decided to split up, and you had volunteered to stay behind, at the motel. Sam went to the police station while Dean had gone to the morgue. You had wanted to stay behind, to have a chance to be on your own, and think about the conversation you had overheard with Sam and Dean last night.

It made you think of things that you had thought were hidden deep within you. As a hunter you never considered the fact you might have a family. Then, when your relationship with Dean deepened, you just figured he would always want to keep hunting, not wanting to raise a family in this life. But his words last night gave you pause. Did you want a family? Did you want to stop hunting at some point?

After everything that's happened to you and Dean, you never figured you would live long enough for that option. And now, with the darkness looming over you, your chances of living happily ever after with Dean were no greater than they were a year ago. And that thought made you sad.

Your inner struggles were cut off by your phone buzzing loudly on the table next to you. Answering it, you heard both Sam and Dean on the other end of the line. "Wow, who figured out the conference call thing?" You teased.

"We know our technology." Dean huffed. "So I checked out the body. Hearts gone, blood sucked dry."

It confirmed what you had just been reading. "So what are we thinking? A really hungry vampire, or a vampire werewolf cross?" You asked.

"Maybe it's a were-pire." Dean suggested, sounding proud of himself. Both you and Sam ignored him, just as Dean was interrupted by a stranger's voice. You tried to listen to the muffled conversation, but you couldn't make out enough to make sense.

"That was Sheriff Donelly. Not the brightest bulb, maybe he missed something in his report. I'm on way to pick Sam up, then we will head back your way." Dean said once he returned on the line.

________________________________________________________

After a quick but yummy dinner of steak and potatoes, Sam and Dean took off, once again leaving you behind. You didn't mind, you felt as if this was their brotherly bonding hunt. You could sense their relationship was healing, and you didn't mind staying back to help with that. 

You spent the rest of the evening relaxing in a long, drawn out bath, before walking to the nearest gas station, stocking up on snacks before returning to the motel room to pig out and watch crappy tv. Hours passed and you didn't hear from either brother and you started to grow worried. You tried calling them, each of them, but neither one answered, and you were beginning to think you should head out and look for them. 

Grabbing your coat and keys, you opened the door, heading outside, stopping at the sight in front of you. Baby was parked in the front of the hotel, at least what was left of Baby. Her windshield was cracked, her grill battered and smashed. Her once shiny paint job was dull and dented, and her wheels listed to the side. Your gaze moved up, to the two men that were gingerly climbing out of the car. Both were just as battered and bruised as the car, and you raced over, grabbing Dean to help him in. 

"What the hell happened?" You asked, as you guided them back into the motel room. Sitting gingerly on the bed, Dean winced at the cut on his lip. 

"Damn Nachzehrer bastards. The sheriff was one, and he was turning the whole town." Dean said, as your hands ghosted over his face, looking at all the gashes and bruises. 

"But you got him, and the rest?" You asked, as Sam sat down, just as bad off as Dean. 

"Yeah, and I think we need to leave town, fast." Dean said, moving to get up to pack. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, stopping him from moving.

"I'll get everything ready. You and Sam head out to the car. But I'm driving! You need to rest. Is Baby even able to make a road trip?" You asked as you started shoving things into bags.

They both groaned as they stood up, Dean handing you the keys. You knew he was really hurting when he wouldn't even argue about driving. "She's strong. She can handle enough to at least get us to the next town."

You followed behind them, your hands full of everyone's bags, wincing again at how beat up everything, and everyone was. "What really happened?" You asked.

"Get us a couple towns away, and a bottle of whiskey, and I'll tell you." Dean said, and you started up Baby, feeling horrible for her when it took multiple attempts. Soon you were nursing her down the road, hoping the car, and the men sprawled in the seats would make it a couple of hours to the next town.


	99. Impala

You didn't want to push the Impala too hard, so after the third town you decided to find an out of the way motel to spend the night in. There was a liquor store down the street, along with an auto parts store to patch her up until you could make it home. Sam and Dean were both looking weary and tired, leaning against the door as you drove. You needed to get them in the motel room, and cleaned up, making sure none of their wounds were getting infected.

"Wait, we're stopping?" Dean grumbled, his voice hoarse and lack from almost sleep. 

"Yep. You guys need cleaned up, and I'm not sure how much farther the Impala's going to make it." You told him, before climbing out of the car, and making your way to the hotel lobby. The clerk there gave you a weird look, glancing behind you at the beat up car, then to your clothes which happened to have both Sam and Dean's blood on them.

"It's been a long night." You explained as you paid for one room. He just nodded, not saying anything, but handing over the key to room 119. Making your way back outside, you saw Dean hobbling to the trunk of the car, while Sam leaned against the door, not making it too far. "Here." You said, handing the key to Dean. "Go inside, I'll get our stuff."

He didn't even argue which attested to the fact of how tired and sore he was. You grabbed the bags, following behind your two hurt men. Once the door was open, Sam went straight for the bathroom, while Dean perched at the edge of the bed. Sitting the bags down, you came and kneeled down in front of him. You grimaced at the look of his face, all the cuts and bruises that almost made his features more striking.

"Relax. Get cleaned up once Sam's done, I'll be back in a minute." You promised, and he nodded. You turned to leave but he grasped your wrist.

"Be careful." He told you. "The world's crazy right now."

You nodded, letting him know you heard, before grabbing your coat and leaving. Your first stop was to the liquor store, buying a couple bottles of whiskey. Storing that in your bag, you went to the fast food place next door, buying dinner for everyone. By the time you had returned, Sam was out of the bathroom, looking much better and you could hear the shower running.

Handing Sam his tacos, you sat down on the table, munching yours. "So, anything need stitched up?" You asked him, and he shook his head. 

"No, it's more bruises than anything." He assured you. Dean came out of the bathroom then, his face still covered in cuts. You grabbed the first aid kit, and the bottle of whiskey, handing it along with tacos to him as he sat down.

"Y/N, I'm fine." He muttered, but you still wanted to make sure the cuts wouldn't get infected. 

"Shh, please let me do this." You mumbled as you began to dab at each cut. He quieted, knowing you needed this, to make sure he was okay. "Tell me what happened." You said, wanting to get his mind off of things.

Sometime later, you had crawled up next to Dean, cuddling in his arms, and sharing the bottle of whiskey. Sam had crawled into the other bed, and was snoring softly, exhausted. "Seriously? Cas was on the line the entire time you were trying to kill the sheriff?" You asked, the whiskey settling warmly in your belly.

"Yeah, he was going on and on about the monster, and the TV shows he was watching, but I only caught parts of it. I was too busy getting beat up. And then when I chopped the man's head off, it started moving on the hood!"

You laughed, imagining all the things that had happened. "But why are you so beat up? And the Impala?"

He explained about getting overtaken, the sheriff driving his car, and wrecking it to save himself. "I bet that was hard on you." You said.

"I hated it, hated hurting Baby. But it worked, and I shoved some pennies into that bastards mouth, and saved everyone. Sam was about to be turned, and it was the only thing I could do." He said, but you could tell he still he hated himself for hurting his car.

"There's an auto part store nearby. We'll fix her up a little bit tomorrow, then do the rest when we get home." You assured him.

You felt him sigh, before he reached over and turned the light off. "What would I do without you?"

The next morning you woke to find Dean gone, and Sam just barely waking up. Yawning, you went to the window, relieved to see that Dean was out at Baby, already covered in sweat and grease. Slipping on your shoes, you stepped outside, hugging your arms close to your chest as the cool morning air brushed against your still sleep warmed skin. 

Dean glanced over his shoulder, his face looking more purple and battered in the early morning sunlight. "Morning."

"Morning, you replied back. "You're up and at it early."

He wiped his hands on a towel. "Yeah, couldn't sleep, and I figured I could start on the Impala, get her road worthy."

You saw a box of parts on the ground beside him. "Can I help?" You asked.

"You could help by bringing me some coffee." He suggested, pulling you in for a quick and messy kiss.

"I can do that." You answered, going back inside where Sam was currently tying the laces to his boots. 

"Morning Y/N. Dean's already out working on Baby I take it?" He asked, as you grabbed clothes to change into.

"Yeah, he wants some coffee." You said.

He nodded, grabbing his coat. "You relax. I'll go get breakfast."

You let him, and as soon as he was gone, you changed clothes, before settling back on the bed. Dean's phone rang, and you grabbed it, checking to see Cas' name on the screen.

"Hey Cas, what's up?" You asked.

You heard him shuffling in the background, turning the TV down. "Y/N, you surprised me. I wasn't expecting you to answer. Is Dean okay? Nobody let me know how the hunt went."

You felt bad for forgetting to let Cas know. "Yeah, everyone's okay. A little battered and bruised, but otherwise okay. We stopped for the night, both Sam and Dean needed to sleep and the Impala needed some work."

"So you took care of those Monsters?" He asked, just as Dean came in, heading straight to the bathroom to wash his hands.

"Yep, Dean shoved his mouth full of pennies, taking care of it all. We'll be heading back soon. How are you feeling?" You asked as Dean came back into the room, raising an eyebrow at you, curious as to who you were talking to.

"I feel better. Watching all these shows has given me a headache though. How do people do it?" He said, and you chuckled.

Telling him to lay off the TV for a while, you hung up, turning your attention to Dean. "That was Cas. He's fine, just worried about us."

Just then Sam came back, his arms full of coffee and pastries. You grabbed a coffee, taking a welcoming sip, before picking your favorite pastry on the bag. "So Dean, is the Impala road worthy?" He asked.

"She's the Impala! Of course she is!" Dean scoffed. "She should at least make it back to the Bunker."


	100. Pie

It was close, but the Impala had made it all the way back to the Bunker. There had been times you didn't think she would, times that Dean had to pull over and mess with her engine, but she sputtered and groaned into the Bunker's garage, late into the night.

You climbed out of the backseat, trying to stiffle a yawn, wanting nothing more than to collapse into your bed and sleep for the next day or so. Dean had climbed out, a big smile on his face, proud of his Baby. You watched, half asleep, as he patted her gently on her hood. "Good job Baby." He said, as you and Sam both started for the hallway. 

You were halfway undressed, your eyes partly closed, when Dean made it to your shared room. He came up behind you, wrapping his arms tightly around your bared midriff. You leaned back, your head nestling in that small space between his shoulder and his neck. He leaned down, resting his head against your shoulder. "Man it's good to be home." He said softly.

"Yes it is." You agreed as his lips started traveling up and down your neck. "But Dean, I'm exhausted."

His lips pausing, he whispered against your skin. "Let's get you into bed." Pulling away from you, he grabbed your shirt that was stuck right below your bra, helping pull it up and over your head. You stood there, letting him help you undress. Soon you were wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts. He grabbed your hand, pulling you over to the bed. You let him pull the sheet back, before sliding underneath. He quickly stripped out of his clothes, leaving just his boxer briefs on before he climbed in behind you. Pulling you close to him, the two of you snuggled, falling asleep instantly.

____________________________________________________________________

The next couple of days were spent the same way. Waking up in Dean's arms, sometimes not leaving the privacy of your room until late morning. Then it was a quick breakfast , before Dean went and worked on the Impala. The Bunker's garage was well stocked with tools and equipment, making Dean very happy. 

You split your time between watching and helping Dean in the garage, or working with Sam in the library. Sam was still looking for any clues as to Amara's whereabouts, and you tried to help him as much as possible. So far you hadn't found anything, and it was beginning to frustrate you.

Right now you were in the kitchen, covered in flour as you tried to make dinner. You had never really had the chance to cook much, but since the three of you were stuck in the Bunker, you wanted to try your hand at it. You were also planning on surprising Dean with a pie. Double checking with the cookbook, you placed the meatloaf into the antique oven. You had potatoes cooking on the stove, and a salad in the fridge. You were peeling the apples, the pie almost ready to go in the oven as well. 

The radio softly playing next to you, you didn't hear Dean come in, but you did feel his arms wrap tightly around your waist as he snuggled his nose into your neck. "Mmm, you smell good." He said, his words muffled against your skin. 

"Dean, I'm trying to bake you a pie." You tried arguing, and it worked. He stepped back, a twinkle in his eye. 

"A pie?" He asked, and you nodded. 

He leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. "Have I told you I love you?"

"Not today." You teased just as Sam came walking into the kitchen, his laptop in his hands. 

"So guys, I think I found us a case." He started, and Dean groaned.

"Can't we relax a couple more days?" He argued.

Sam sat down at the table, ignoring the flour dusting it, he read off the story. "It's at the Lizzie Borden house." He explained, and your eyes grew wide. 

"Seriously?" You asked him, and he nodded, happy that someone was as interested as he was. 

"Yeah, can you imagine doing a case in her house? Who knows, maybe it's even her." He said excitedly.

"Wow you two are weird." Dean said before sticking his finger into the bowl of pie filling.

"When do we leave?" You asked, moving over and slapping Dean's hand out of the bowl. You poured the batter into the prepared pie crust, placing it in the oven and away from Dean's roving hands. 

He looked at you, using the puppy dog eye trick he had used from Sam. Falling for it, you handed him the bowl, letting him swipe his finger in it. 

As Dean and Sam talked about the case, you pulled dinner out, getting everything dished. Handing one to each, you sat down next to Dean. 

"So, I say we wait until the morning to leave. It should only take 5 or 6 hours to get there, and that would get us plenty of time to scope the place out before dark. 

Just then the timer went off for the pie, and you stood to go get it, but Dean placed a hand on your shoulder, stopping you. "I'll get it."

You watched as he reverently pulled the pie out, almost drooling at the smell and sight before him. Instead of staying put, you stood up, grabbing ice cream from the freezer.

You dished each person a generous slice, including one for yourself. You almost choked on it when Sean closed his eyes and let out a groan. "Man, this is amazing." He said, and you beamed.

"Hurry up guys. Its late and we need to pack." You warned them, but Dean stood up and scooped out another piece for himself. You shook your head, watching him,and he took a forkful, shoving it in your mouth. 

"Dean! I've already had a piece!" You argued, and he just smiled at you. 

"Y/N, I know you did. But this is amazing. And in our type of life we need to relish the good things as much as we can. The love of a woman, the amazing pie she can bake." He said, surprising you.

You were still sitting there shocked, when he got up, and began doing the dishes. You turned to look Sam's way, just to see him as flabbergasted as you.


	101. Lizzie

The next evening found you standing outside of an old, mint green house. It was three stories high, with a small porch on the front, and a wooden sign proclaiming to be the famous Lizzie Borden house. 

"Who would turn a murder house into a bed and breakfast?" Dean asked while removing your bags from the trunk. "Isn't that a little gross?"

"A lot of people want to stay where history happened." Sam argued as you followed him up the concrete steps into the foyer. Warm cherry wood steps were off to the right, leading up to the second floor. To your left was what was now the office, but what had probably been the parlor at one time. It was full of artifacts, and a small gift shop, with shirts stating the fact you survived the night at the famous Lizzie Borden Murder House.

A balding man with a thin, reedy body stood behind the counter, his thick wool sweater pulled tight around his bony frame. Big, black framed glasses were perched on his beak like nose, and he had a thick paperback book in his hands. Sam strode over to him, a friendly smile on his face. "Good evening, we'd like a couple of rooms please."

The guy looked up through the top his glances, first taking in Sam, then Dean, before finally landing on you. His gaze stayed on you, his thin lips turning up at the end in an unnerving smile. You felt a shudder go through you, as he looked you up and down, from your toes to your hair, settling on your chest for seconds longer than necessary. Dean noticed and stepped closer to you, placing a possessive hand on your lower back. It didn't seem to deter the guy any, he just licked his lip before turning back to Sam.

"Sure, how many? I have three available." He said, his gaze slipping back to you.

Sam shook his head as he pulled out his wallet. "No, two rooms are fine. Preferably close together."

The man frowned, but took the money and handed Sam room keys. "Oh, and we were just wondering about the deaths that have happened here recently."

The man finished writing in his book to look up at Sam. "Bad luck, that's all it is. Nothing to worry about. We may have ghosts, but they haven't caused trouble before."

Dean left his hand on your back as you made your up the narrow stairs, to your rooms. They were side by side, at the end of the hall, rooms two and three. "Wow, that guy gave me the creeps."

"I know what you mean." You agreed, as you opened the door to your room. You didn't think you would be going anywhere without Dean, or at least a knife. You stopped dead in your tracks at the sight in front of you. The room was smaller than you had imagined, and every square inch was covered in lace, or something floral. The bedspread had roses, the nightstands were covered with lace doilies, the dresser was too, with vases full of fake pink roses. An antique grooming set was laid out on the dresser, along with small picture frames. A door on the far end led to a small bathroom, painted a rose pink, with flowered towels hanging from the gilded towel rack.

"I think I might throw up." Dean grumbled as Sam picked up a vintage perfume bottle. Holding it out in front of him, he squeezed the bulb, and a cloud of vile smelling perfume wafted your way.

"Ew, Sam!" You complained. "Now I'm going to smell like a grandma!"

"Yeah, and I'm not into that type of thing." Dean teased, and you shook your head at him.

"I'm going to take a shower, get rid of this smell. Then we can start checking for signs of the ghost that did the killing." You said, shutting the door behind you.

Fifteen minutes later, you were smelling once again of (your favorite smell), dressed in a fresh pair leggings along with one of Dean's flannels. It was getting late at night, and you figured you would be comfortable while working. Sam must have gone to his room, and Dean was lounging against the headboard, trying to find a comfortable position.

"These iron headboards suck. You fall through, you can't lean against them. And they groan, a lot." He complained, before climbing off. 

"If they groan when you're just laying there, think what they're like during extracurricular activities." You said, and he frowned.

"We'd probably break the poor thing." He said, winking at you, just as the lights started flickering. Sam knocked on the door as Dean pulled out his EMF detector. You opened the door, watching as both men went to work. Soon, between the two of them they had the ghost theory debunked. Speakers behind the pictures, a timer messing with the lights, just simple, tricks of the trade.

"Well, that's disappointing." Sam said, as you plopped down on the bed. "But I still have a feeling the murders weren't human."

"Listen, can we leave this place for a while? The flowers and the lace are creeping me out." Dean said, and the three of you decide to leave for dinner. But as you walk down the stairs, you hear someone scream, then a big thud. Sam and Dean rushed down the hallway, following the clerk as he rushed into one of the rooms in the back. You stayed to the back, as Sam and Dean flashed out their FBI badges. A woman lay on the ground, an axe sticking out of her, blood sticky on the floor. Dean kneels down next to the body, checking for her pulse as Sam talks to the distraught clerk. You turn around, looking for anyone else in the building, and that's when you see him. A man staring in the front window, a camera flashing going off, before he runs to the side.

Without thinking, you rush out the front door, to the side, looking for him. He's trying to push his way through the thick rose bushes, and you could hear him cussing as they pulled and ripped at his skin and clothes. "Stop! Please, I just want to talk to you."

Surprisingly he does stop, and you cautiously make your way towards him. "Why were you taking pictures?" You ask him, your hand towards the back of your hips, where you have your knife in a case.

"Please don't tell them I was here. I don't want to go to jail." He pleaded with you.

You squinted your eyes in confusion. "Why would you go to jail? Did you kill her?"

He shook his head so fast he almost lost his balance. "No, of course not! I'm just not supposed to be here, that's all."

"But you've been taking pictures? Were you here when the other deaths happened?" You asked him, and he nodded his head. 

"Yeah, there's been this little girl here, both times too. I figured she was the ghost of Lizzie, and I was trying to find her, to capture her on film." He explained.

You considered your options. Sam and Dean were both encased in the death inside. But you had a feeling this guy could help you out, a lot. "Can you show me your pictures?" You asked him, and he nodded. Hoping you weren't signing your death warrant, you sent Dean a quick text message, before climbing into the small hatch back car the man drove.

As he headed down the road, he talked constantly of his infatuation with Lizzie, how he wanted to be the one to capture a picture of her ghost, to prove that she was still haunting her old home. You listened with half an ear, while pondering who exactly was doing the killings. You had already disproved the fact that it could be ghosts, and you weren't sure this man could kill a fly. But then, could it be the clerk? He seemed really distraught that the old lady was dead, but maybe he was a good actor.

Before you had come to any conclusions, Len as he had told you to call him, was pulling up in front of a small apartment complex. Sending Dean another text with the address, you followed him into a messy and crowded apartment. He had pictures up everywhere, books spread across every available surface. He started rummaging through things, and you wandered around, seeing picture after picture of the Borden house. 

"Here, these are ones I took the night the couple died." He said, handing you a stack of photographs. You flipped through them as he talked about meeting the girl, and how he felt cold and indifferent after. "I think that girl did something to me. I just want to find her, and have her fix me."

As he said that, you found a picture, and your blood ran cold. Between what Len said, and the girl standing in front of you, you knew what you were dealing with. "This girl, you said she did something to you?"

He nodded. "She must have. Because now I don't care. About Lizzie, about my chat room. Anything. I don't feel."

You grabbed your phone, cussing when it went straight to Dean's voicemail. "Dean, call me back. I know who's doing the killing."

As soon as you hung up, someone started pounding on the door to Len's apartment, yelling your name. Len glanced at you, his eyes blown wide with fear. "It's okay. Let me answer it."

You opened the door, and Dean came storming in, his eyes scanning every square inch of you to make sure you were okay. "Y/N, what the hell? Don't take off like that again!"

You nodded, and he pulled you into his arms. "So, who is this, and why did you head here with him?"

So you explained, about the photographs, the fact that you thought Len's soul was missing, which made the other man faint, to the fact that it was Amara doing the killing. You even showed him the picture, the one showing a young girl with the Mark of Cain on her shoulder.

"I don't think it's Amara. Why would she pick up an ax and start killing people? It was probably one of her last victim's." Sam said from the doorway. 

It made sense, more sense than for Amara to be killing when all she had been interested in before was souls. Dragging a now woken up Len with you, you quickly made the trip to the latest victim's house.

After making sure Len was handcuffed to the car, the three of you snuck into the house, splitting up. You knew the wife was home, her car was in the driveway, and you could hear muffled sounds coming from the basement. Without waiting for back up, you took the stairs, wincing when one creaked under your feet. The door was partially closed, and you gently pushed it open, taking a step inside before feeling a blinding pain on the back of your head. As you tumbled to the ground, you let out a weak cry for help before you knew no more.


	102. Axed

"Y/N, come on sweetheart, wake up." Was the first thing you heard as you started to come to. Your head was pounding, and you had a sharp pain on the back of your head where you had been knocked unconscious. You sat there for a moment, your eyes closed as you tried to calm your queasy stomach that your headache caused. 

Slowly opening them, you blinked at the bright florescent up ahead, just as Dean tried talking to you again. "Oh my god, Y/N, thank god. You've been out for a long time. How do you feel?" 

"Like someone took a sledgehammer to my head." You muttered, wincing. 

"Nah, more like the butt of a shotgun." Sam said, and it was then you realized all three of you were captured and tied up in the basement.

"And we're all tied up? That's great." You sighed, wondering how the hell you were going to get out of this mess. All three of you were trapped, together, while the soulless murderer was out doing who knew what. 

It was then footsteps thundered on the floor above you, and the door opened. In walked the baby sitter, a shotgun in her hand. "Good, you're awake." She said as she came down the stairs. She acted as if she didn't have a care in the world, her smile smug. "I didn't want the fun to start without all of you able to partake."

"Why are you doing this?" You asked as she cocked her shotgun at you.

"Because I don't care anymore. I feel free, and liberated. But you guys just got in my way. And I'm sorry but you're going to need to die so things don't fall back on me." She said, walking closer.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see Sam was trying to break free of his bindings, and you decided to keep her attention on you as long as possible, hoping he could get free. "You know this isn't right." You started, but she turned on you, her eyes flashing full of rage.

"It feels right, and that's all that matters. After meeting that weird girl in the bar, I'll felt good, and powerful. Like I can get away with anything I want. Like killing you right now." She said, holding the shotgun up to your forehead. You froze in your seat, knowing Sam was nowhere close to escaping, and that this was probably your last seconds on this Earth, that you would never get another chance to spend a night in Dean's arms.

You wanted to turn to him, to let him see the love shining in your eyes, but the barrel of the gun was pressed against your forehead, holding you in place. You could hear Dean struggling in the background, cussing and threatening her. Your eyes locked on hers, urging her on, wanting to go out with a little bit of pride in tact, you were shocked when her eyes widened in surprise and her hold on the gun went lax. She took a step back, the shotgun falling to the ground, and it was then you could see Len standing behind her, a bloody axe in his hand. You had almost forgotten about him, and the fact that he had ridden to the house with you. Dean had handcuffed him to the car, but he had somehow gotten loose. And you couldn't be more grateful.

"Len?" Dean asked as the babysitter, Sydney was her name, fell to the floor, blood slowly pooling on the ground below her. Len looks up, a look of horror on his face, just as Sam finally breaks out of his bindings, and he rushes over to Len, who hands Sam the ax with a shaking hand. You hear a gurgling sound from Sydney, and you look down as she struggles to speak.

"The darkness is coming. It's coming for all of us." She threatens, before her eyes go blank, and she dies.

After Sam untied Dean, Dean came rushing over to you, untying your ropes and pulling you into his arms. "I thought she was going to kill you." He whispered into your hair as he held you.

"That makes two of us. Thank god for Len. But how did he get out?" You asked, just as Sam called the two of you over. He was holding Len's arm up, and you could see his hand dangling, the bones broken, the skin bleeding.

"Looks like he broke his hand." Sam explained, as Len shrugged. 

"It didn't hurt that much." He stated. 

Dean just shook his head, and the four of you climbed the stairs, heading outside. Dean helped you into the backseat of the Impala, before he went over to Sam, who was still standing by Len. You could tell they were in a deep discussion, and if your head wasn't pounding you would've climbed out to join them. 

Soon Dean came back, and climbed into the front seat, waiting for Len and Sam to join him. "What's going to happen? Can we really leave Len alone, without his soul?" You asked him.

"We aren't. He gave us no choice. He's going to take the blame for the murders, that way he's safely locked away in a prison cell where he can't hurt anyone else." Dean explained.

"That's sad. I kinda liked him." You said, watching as Dean's eyes darkened in jealousy. "Not like that! But he was kind of a cool guy."

By then Sam climbed into the passenger seat. "Len's called the police. They're on their way now."

Dean quickly pulled the Impala out of the driveway, turning towards the end of town. "I feel bad for Len, that he has to take the rap for Amara. And speaking of her, she is growing way too fast, and needs to be stopped. But, how will we find her?" Sam asked, a frown on his face at the thought of the darkness, and her toll on the world.

"I don't think she will be that hard to find." Dean answered as he drove down the road. "The rate she's growing? And the amount of souls she's consuming. She should be sticking out like a sore thumb."

You nodded, goosebumps covering your skin at the thought of what could happen the next time the two of you met. As your eyes watched out the window, you could have sworn you saw a young woman standing at the side of the road, waving to you as the Impala sped down the road. But Dean turned a corner, and she was gone, and you wondered if you had imagined her in the first place.


	103. Dreams

With no new leads, Dean had no choice but to point the Impala back in the direction of the bunker. It probably was a good thing to head home, with Cas still being there, recuperating. You could check on him, make sure he was doing okay. Then you could regroup, and figure out your next move. For you, your next move was falling into bed, and sleeping for the next eight hours.

Dean pulled into the driveway, shutting the engine off, but still sitting there, behind the steering wheel. Sam stared at him a moment before climbing out. Bending down, he looked in your window, a silent question as to what to do with his brother. You gave him a smile, tilting your head to let him know he could head on it. You would deal with Dean. Seconds ticked by, and the two of you sat there, quiet. Slowly, you scooted over to the middle of the seat, resting your head on the bench beside Dean's tense shoulder. He didn't even register the fact that he felt you move, his head resting on the steering wheel.

"Dean." You started, picking your words carefully. "Do you want to talk about it?" You asked him.

It took him a moment, but finally he raised his head, turning in his seat so his bloodshot eyes were facing you. "What's there to talk about? The fact that the darkness is out there sucking out people's souls. All because of the fact that I had the Mark of Cain on my arm, and we released her! And now, I have some sort of weird connection with her, and she hates you. I have no idea what's going to happen next, and if she does something to you, that's on me." The words spilled out, like a dam had broken, and your felt for him.

"First of all, it wasn't your fault. If you blame anyone, blame Sam and I. It's our fault she's out, it's our fault she's taking people's souls. And yeah it's eating me alive, but you know what? I'd probably do it all over again, because it means that stupid mark isn't making you into some crazed killing machine. And Amara? I don't think she's going to waster her time on me. It's you I'm worried about. She seems to have this hold on you, a connection that goes deeper than what you and I have." You argued back, a couple of admissions slipping out before you could stop them. 

He slipped out of the Impala, making you think you had pissed him off. That thought was thrown out the window when your door opened, and he pulled you out, crushing you to his chest. "Alright, let's compromise. It's all of our faults that she's out. But don't for a second think her connection with me is anything on what you and I have. We've gone through so much pain, heart ache, and yet here we are, back together. That says something. And she can't take that from us, no matter how hard she tries. I will always love you, even if she does end this world, that love will never die."

You sighed, his words have the desired effect, calming you down. "But Dean, we don't know her end game yet."

His sigh matched yours, as he slid his hand down until it connected with yours, drawing you out of the garage and through the bunker into your shared room. "I know we don't. And that scares me. So much about her scares me. The fact that she thinks you might be a threat. The fact that she has this stupid hold over me. And the fact that she can suck out human souls, and has infinite power. I don't scare easily, but she does frighten me."

Slipping out of your stained clothes, you pulled on one of Dean's t-shirts, before sliding into bed, waiting for him to do the same. Once he was down to his t-shirt and boxers, he slid under the covers, pulling you close to him. Resting against his chest, you lazily drew circles over his chest as you thought. "Dean, I'm glad we've had this talk. It's nice knowing you aren't shutting me out again. Please, keep me informed about what goes on in that head of yours."

"I will try." He promised, kissing your forehead before leaning over and shutting the light off. 

Snuggled up to Dean, you found yourself falling asleep quickly, exhausted from the trip, and from your talk with him. 

_____________________________________________

"Hello Y/N." A smooth female voice said from behind you, and you could recognize that voice from anywhere. Turning in the darkened area, you looked for the source, trying to figure out where you were. A thick fog blanketed the ground, with dark, dead trees surrounding you. 

"Show yourself." You ordered, as the fog wrapped itself around your legs, climbing up your body, it's hold tight like a boa constrictor's, and for a moment you panicked, needing to get away. But as soon as the pressure started, it stopped and in front of you stood Amara, just like you had seen her the first day.

"As you wish Y/N." She said, tilting her head as she stared at you. "But you did not follow my orders. Why?"

You racked your brain, confusion evident as you tried to understand what she meant. And then it dawned on you, her emphasis on you staying away from Dean. That you were just a distraction, one that she didn't need, or want. "Because Dean isn't your toy to do with as you please. He's my boyfriend, and my friend. It's not your place to order me around."

Instead of being mad like you had expected, Amara threw her head back, laughing joyfully. "Oh, you might be fun to keep around, if you weren't close to Dean. But he's too important, too close to me to have some pathetic human girl get in the way. But it's over now, so I guess I don't have to worry."

You once again stared at her in confusion. "What do you mean, it's over now?"

A movement of her finger was her only answer. But it was enough. It brought someone out of the shadows, and you could only watch in horror as Dean walked through the charcoal gray fog, ignoring you completely as he went straight for Amara. Your heart in your throat, you saw him close the gap, letting her draw him in. With a wink thrown your way, Amara wrapped her arms around his back, pulling him tight before capturing his lips with her own.

A sob broke from your lips, and you wanted nothing more than to fall to the ground. You had never expected this to happen. "Dean?" You mumbled, tears clogging your throat.

He detached himself from Amara, just long enough to answer you. "What are you still doing here? I thought this would be answer enough. I didn't expect you to be stupid enough to not get it. I chose Amara, not you. It will always be Amara."


	104. Doubts

"It will always be Amara." Dean taunted, his arms wrapped around her, his gaze full of loathing and pity. And it was directed directly at you.

"Dean, she will never give up. We can't have her ruining our chance together." Amara purred in his ear, and he nodded. You stood there, pleading with your eyes, as he pulled out his gun, aiming it directly at your head.

"Dean, you don't have to do this!" You pleaded. "It's her. She has this hold on you. You can fight it." You sobbed, but he just chuckled.

"At least she doesn't bring me down like you do." He said, before pulling the trigger.

______________________________

You woke up gasping for air, feeling your chest for bullet wounds. Sweat dripped down, mixed with tears as you tried to grasp what was reality and what was part of that horrible nightmare. 

"Y/N?" Dean's groggy voice came from beside you, your sudden movement waking him up. "What's wrong?" He took in your distraught state, immediately trying to pull you into his arms, but the Dean from the nightmare was still forefront in your mind, and you pulled away. 

Wrapping your arms tightly around your knees, you rocked back and forth, trying to calm yourself down. You didn't notice as Dean hesitated, before gently placing his hand on your back. You couldn't help the way your body tensed, but after a moment, you leaned into the touch, before crashing yourself against his chest. Relieved, his arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly to him. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked quietly, his hand rubbing soothing circles up and down your back.

"Do you think you will be able to fight Amara's pull?" You asked quietly, your face plastered tight to his chest.

"Is that what you dreamed about? Amara?" He asked. "Truthfully? It's hard, but I'm trying with all my might. And having you with me, it helps."

"She just had you, and you had decided to be with her, and the look you gave me. It hurt. But not as much as the fact that you had a gun pointed at me." You admitted, and you felt his arms stiffen a little bit before he forced himself to relax.

"That will never happen." He promised. "No matter her pull, or what she does to me. I will never choose her over you, end your life because she says to." He emphasized his point by kissing the top of your head, pulling you back down until the two of you were once again laying in bed.

"I know. But it's still disturbing. Seeing the man you loved, the man who've you gone through hell with, choosing another woman. Especially when he looks at you with such loathing and pity." You said, still not over the dream.

"I could never look at you like that. Now, let's try to get some more sleep. I'm right here in case you have another one of those dreams. But just remember, that's never going to happen." He said, and you closed your eyes, getting lost in the feel of his arms around you. But a voice in the back of your mind had you wondering if he would have any choice in the matter in the end.

The next morning you were up and out of the room before Dean had even started stirring. He had found it easy to fall back asleep, but you, you laid there, your mind refusing to shut off. You couldn't stop thinking about that dream, and what Dean had said. Of course he would say those things, but you knew, in the end, he might not have a choice in anything.

"Hey, you're up early." Sam said, and you jumped. You hadn't been expecting anyone to be up this early, but you should have known better. Sam was always up and moving before you and Dean, going for runs or starting on research.

"Yeah." You muttered, heading straight for the coffee. "Long night."

"Want to talk about it?" He asked you, coming beside you to pour himself a cup also. 

"Yes." You said, knowing it would be easier to talk to Sam about these things than with Dean. You loved Dean, and you never wanted to keep things from him again, but you weren't sure he would be able to separate his feelings to deal with yours. So, as the two of you sat down at the table, you explained about your dream, then your conversation with Dean.

Sam was an amazing listener, so attentive, never interrupting, but listened quietly. Once you had spoken your piece, he took a sip of coffee, contemplating how he was going to handle it. "I've had concerns about this too. Not to the extent of dreams, but the connection with Dean and Amara worries me. I'm afraid he's hiding how big of a pull she has on him, and that fact is going to hurt all of us in the end."

"What can we do?" You asked him, but before he could answer, you heard the tell tale signs of Dean stumbling down the hallway, muttering to himself. He had never really been a morning person. 

"You two are up early. Planning a surprise party for me?" Dean joked, before he started cussing about the empty coffee pot. Stumbling around the kitchen, he made filling the coffee pot twice as hard as it should have been, and you and Sam watched, enjoying the free show.

After the coffee started percolating, he turned to you. "Are you done yet?" You teased, as he sat down at the table in a huff.

"Well if some princess hadn't of drank the last of the coffee, I wouldn't have had to done that." He grumbled. "But really, what were you talking about?"

Sam saved the day. "I was just telling Y/N how I think we need to head back to that town. I was reading up on their newspaper, and I think more people are soulless. We need to help them if we can."

You hid your surprise well, especially since Dean was studying you. "Really? We have to go back there? Please just say that we don't have to stay in that hotel again."

"Of course not. But I think it would be a good idea. And if more people are turning up soulless, than that could mean Amara is still around. And that's our end game, right Dean? To find Amara, and end her." Sam asked pointedly, and you watched as Dean's eyes shifted, just the slightest bit, before he stood up to pour himself a cup of the readied coffee.

"Yep. Sounds like a plan." He answered, but he didn't sound fully convinced.


	105. Bunny

2 Weeks Later you found yourself being taken along as Sam and Dean answered a call from their friend Donna.

"Seriously? You're answering a call about a kid about refuses to take off a bunny mask?" You asked as you lounged in the backseat, wishing you were back at the bunker. Better yet, if you were wishing, you wanted it to be over with Amara and lounging on a beach somewhere with Dean.

"Donna wouldn't call for just anything." Dean said from the seat, and you frowned at the note of affection in his voice. You hadn't had a chance to meet Donna yet, and you were already starting to feel jealous over her.

"Sure." You muttered, slumping even farther down in the seat, missing the curious glance Dean sent your way in the rear view mirror. Plugging in your headphones, you decided to be childish and ignore them for the rest of the trip.

Somewhere along the line, you had fallen asleep, your head pressed to the side window. A soft shaking of your shoulders and you woke up to see Sam shaking you awake. "Sam?" You said groggily, wondering why it was him and not Dean.

"Hey sleepyhead. We're here, at the station. Dean already went in to talk to Donna, so let's hurry up and meet him." Sam said.

"He didn't wait?" You asked, frowning. Things had been going good between you and Dean, and you wouldn't have figured he would take off like that.

"Nope. Him and Donna get along pretty well. I think he was excited to see her." Sam explained as you slowly climbed out of the car, your back creaking from sleeping in one spot too long. He didn't notice the tiny worry lines on your forehead, or the way your body tensed up at the idea that Dean might be in there flirting with another woman. Instead you followed behind him, seeing Dean up ahead, laughing at something a blonde woman said. It was his easy, natural laugh, where he threw his head back, something he only did around friends. It made you want to hate the sheriff already, and you hadn't even met her yet.

Sam finally looked back, noticing your tenseness. "Hey, what's up?" He asked you, stopping in the hallway and giving you his full attention.

"Sam, does he really like her?" You asked, hoping he would understand your meaning without you sounding too stupid. 

Sam raised an eyebrow, smartly getting what you were implying. "Y/N, after everything the two of you have been through, you think he's going to throw that all away for her? I thought you were smarter than that." 

"I know. But it's just that after everything that's happened, I'm always afraid something else is going to try to tear us apart. I'm afraid that the good thing we have going on will not last." You told him one of your biggest fears, almost as big as facing Amara. "And so you are saying that he likes her." You said, reading between the lines.

Sam threw his hands up, shaking his head. "What? No, Y/N, I didn't mean it like that. Of course he likes her, I do to. But not in the way you are implying. She's like family. If you'd even give her a chance you'd see." He backtracked, trying to make you understand. But you looked her way again, watching as she smiled up at Dean, her eyes shining bright with genuine caring. 

"I'll give her a chance. I don't really have a chance. But look at them Sam. They seem happy, and maybe it'd do him some good to be with a person who isn't so..." You said, your words breaking off at the end of your sentence. 

"Y/N, what are you saying? That you aren't good enough for my brother? That's bullshit and you know it. The two of you are great together, and have gone through heaven and hell, literally, to prove it. Now shut up and let's get up there before they notice somethings up." Sam ordered, and you nodded, pretending that you agreed with Sam, and that you were taking your words back. 

Staying close to Sam, you forced yourself to move forward, pass officers that looked you up and down, to criminals sneering at you, their hands cuffed to the chairs. You glared back, your hunter instinct bringing your guard up against the criminals in front of you. What seemed like a walk down executioner's role was probably only seconds long, but it was too short of a time before you were entering Donna's office, where Dean was laughing at something Donna said. 

"There you are!" He exclaimed, grabbing you and pulling you to his side, as Sam sent you a look, arguing silently that he was right. You smiled at him, before letting Dean crush you to his side. It was only for a moment, before he resumed his somewhat professional FBI stance, this time with you standing next to him. "Donna, you remember Sam. And this is my girl, Y/N."

"This is Y/N?" Donna asked, an accent coloring her words, and she turned her brown eyes your way, studying you closely. "Y/N, I hope we will have time for some little girl time. It can't be easy traveling around with these two men all the time." She told you, a huge, adorable smile breaking out on her face.

You could feel your walls crumpling, between Dean's introduction, and her peppy upbeat attitude, you couldn't hold a grudge against her. "That sounds great. It'd be nice to get away from so much testosterone." You agreed.

"Oh yeah, you betcha." She said, and you smiled, deciding your earlier assumptions were stupid, and that you might really enjoy this hunt after all. 

"Hey!" Dean argued. "Are you gonna take Sam with you too? With his hair, I'm sure he'd fit more in with you and a girl's night." Dean teased, just as the deputy came in to talk to Donna.

Sam didn't have a chance to retaliate before everyone's attention turned to the awkward deputy. "Sheriff Donna? I can take them back now if you'd like. I know you're super busy." He said, and you could literally see his heart in his eyes as he stared at her. 

"No Deputy, I've got this." She said, totally oblivious to the fact that he was crushing on her. 

"Okay." He said, his face falling as he left the room. As soon as he was out of ear shot, you turned to Donna. 

"He totally likes you." You whispered, as Sam and Dean both stared at you in shock, probably for different reasons. 

"Nah." She argued, but you could tell you got her thinking. You didn't know her story, if she was married, had been married, swung the other way. You weren't sure, but you could see the sudden nervousness cross her face. "But anyways, let's head back and take a look."

Dean walked along side her, and she took up the rear with Sam. He playfully pushed his elbow into your side. "See, did you have anything to worry about?" He asked you, and you shook your head. 

"Nope. I know I was being stupid, but I can't help looking for bad things to happen. That's all that happens to us it seems like. But she seems pretty cool." You said, as she unlocked the door to the holding cells.

You let them walk ahead, almost running into Sam's back when he stopped. Standing on your tiptoes to look over Dean's shoulder, you reeled back at the grotesque figure in front of you. The body wasn't too bad, just that of a normal man, but with blood covering his shirt. It was the huge, fuzzy head of a bunny that was placed on his shoulders that was creeping you out. It had huge eyes staring at you, blood splashed across the white fake fur, the pink little nose scuffed with blood. It was something that could haunt your nightmares.


	106. Promises

"I'm going to have nightmares about that thing for a long time." You said, before tipping back your beer bottle, taking a long sip of the bitter drink. "Who would have something like that to begin with?"

You stared across the table at Donna, who was running the bottle through her hands without taking a drink. "I don't know. But, that poor kid. Stuck inside it, being driven to do it's dirty work, and then take the rap. Poor kid died because of some stupid curse or possession."

You reached across, grasping her hand, trying to comfort her. "It's not your fault. I know it's hard, that you couldn't save him, but we will figure this out, and save other people." 

"Thanks. And this, it helps too." She said, waiving her hand around, talking about being at the bar with you, and Sam and Dean. You glanced around the busy place, trying to find the two men in question. They had vanished almost as soon as you had arrived, leaving you alone with Donna. 

"Good. Dean's always saying a good night at the bar is a good way to forget about your problems. Well, that and something else, but I'm not gonna go into that." You said, your facing flaming at the way your thoughts led.

Even though you hadn't explained, Donna caught the jist of your words. "And I bet he would rather be doing that with you than being at some hole in the wall bar." She said, winking at you.

"Oh yeah, besides fixing up the Impala, that's one of his favorite pastimes. But I'm not complaining." You said, nibbling on your lips at the thought.

"How come I've never met you before? You've been with the Winchesters for a while, haven't you? I thought you and Dean had been together for a while." She said, finally taking a sip of her beer. 

"Yeah, we have. Seems like forever." You replied fondly. "But, it just never seemed to work out. I think when he did the case with you before, I was indisposed." You said, shuddering at the thought of how you were indisposed. That had been during your time in that horrid club, and you never wanted to think of that place again. "Then, during your last one, with the vamps, I needed some me time. Dean and I, we haven't had it easy. Hell, I'm surprised we're even together after everything that's happened." You admitted, finally spotting the brothers playing pool at the back of the bar.

"Relationships, good ones, aren't meant to be easy. Fighting to stay together, that's what makes them strong, and I can tell you to are good for each other. Maybe someday I'll find someone who treats me like that." She said wistfully.

"Dean told me about Doug. The asshat. You deserve better. Like that deputy maybe." You suggested, raising your eyebrow, but she just scoffed.

"Him? Nah. He's another Doug, and I've sworn off anyone by that name. And I don't think he likes me that way." She said, but you could still see the wheels turning in her head. 

"I like you, and I hope we can become good friends." You said suddenly, as Dean started coming back towards your table, a frown on his face. "Maybe meet up for more than just cases. It would be nice to have another girl to talk to."

"I'd like that, a lot." She said, just as Dean stopped at the table, glancing at both of you.

"You'd like what?" He asked teasingly.

You ran your hand up and down his arm, deciding he needed a little teasing himself. "Oh you know, next time you head out on a hunting trip, inviting her down for a little girl time."

"You don't have to wait for me to be gone." He said, winking at Donna, then at you, and you laughed. "But seriously, I just heard there was another attack. At the high school. But the coach survived."

"Oh, that's horrible." Donna said. "But how did you hear before me?" She asked, just as her phone rang. With a sorry mouthed to you, she slid out of the booth, heading outside.

"You two seem to be getting along well." Dean said, grabbing your beer bottle and taking a sip.

"I like her." You announced. "And what about us? Are we doing okay?" You asked, searching his eyes for the answer.

He slid into the booth across from you, grasping your hand in his. "Of course we're doing okay. Aren't we?" He answered, and you could tell your comment threw him off.

"I think so. But so much has happened, and we're trying to get back to normal. I just wanted to make sure." You told him, nibbling on your lip.

"Y/N, I love you. And everything that we've gone through has cemented that fact. I know I'm not good at showing it, but please believe me." He said, squeezing your hand just as Sam came over, counting a huge wad of money.

He looked between the two of you, realizing he had just walked into something private. "I'll just go outside with Donna." He announced, turning and leaving. You slid out of the booth, grabbing your coat, but Dean had other ideas. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulled you into his embrace. Looking down at you, he ran his hands up and down your back. 

"Listen, I think that after this hunt, maybe you and I can take some time, just for ourselves. Head to Vegas, or wherever you want." He said, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I would like that, I truly would." You told him. "But maybe we can wait until we're done with Amara. She scares me, and I need her gone before I can relax." You said, shivering as you remembered how she wanted you out of the way. 

If he noticed your reaction to her name, he didn't say anything. Instead he leaned down, pressing his lips gently to yours, before helping you into your coat. "Fine. When we're done with her, I'm taking you on a relaxing trip, somewhere. We'll have a fancy hotel room, that we might never leave." He said, lightening the mood when his hand drifted down and pinched your butt cheek right as you pushed the door open and a blast of chilly air plummeted you in the face.


	107. Jack and Coke

After the hunt with Donna, the three of you had gone back to the Bunker, planning on immersing yourself completely in the hunt for Amara. Each day the three of you would scour newspapers, along with the internet, trying to find any clue. Something that showed where she might be hiding, or what she might be up to.

It was easy to tell how frustrated Sam and Dean were getting. Both were testy, and more than a little grumpier than normal. Dean even snapped at you once or twice, apologizing profusely afterwards. 

One morning, after a night everyone had drank too much and gone to bed too late, you heard loud noises coming from the kitchen. Dean's side of the bed was still warm, but he was nowhere to be seen. Heading straight for the kitchen, you stopped when you saw the huge pile of junk food on the table, with a startled Sam and a grumpy Dean staring each other down. Coming to stand next to Dean, you did a double take when a man with rainbow suspenders showed up right next to Sam. 

It had taken quite a bit of talking for you and Dean to believe this guy, this Sully. But after Sam explained about him, you could see Dean start to believe, while you still felt it hard to believe. Who would have thought Imaginary friends weren't imaginary after all? 

Still not sure you were fully awake, you stayed in the back, listening as Sully begged Sam and Dean for help. Of course Sam was willing to help his friend, but you could still see the denial on Dean's face as he listened to Sully's interesting story. Supposedly one of his friends had been killed while his charge had been gone. 

Soon, you watched the three of them, with Sully in your usual place in the backseat of the Impala, leave the Bunker, on a quest to help Sully find the murderer. You had decided to stay behind, needing some time to yourself, while promising to stick hard to research. Truthfully, you thought the brothers needed some time to themselves, to sort out the grumpiness they had been feeling.

As soon as the Impala was out of sight, you slowly made your way back into the large building, the silence almost deafening. Turning on your radio helped a little, as you sat back down in front of your laptop, sighing as you began the tedious task of searching through news.

Hours later, your shoulders were hunched, and you had the biggest headache in the world. Dean had texted you, letting you know they had arrived safely, and that the poor little girl was going to be scarred for life. Feeling the need for a change of scenery, you quickly changed from your outfit of sweatpants and a tank top to your ripped jeans and a black band shirt with your leather jacket thrown over it. 

Fifteen minutes later you were pulling into the parking lot of the local small town bar which you and Dean habitually frequented. Stepping inside the warm room smelling of spilled liquor, you took a seat at the bar, seeing your normal bartender.

"Hey Kyan." You said, smiling at the man as he brought over your usual glass of jack and coke. 

"Hey." He answered back, before looking behind you. "Where's the rest of your party?"

Shrugging, you took a sip of your drink, wincing at how strong it was. Kyan always made your drinks stronger than the recipes called. "Out of town. It's just me tonight."

Leaning on his elbows, his face came a little closer to yours, a bright smile on his face. You had to admit he was handsome, with his dark reddish hair, and the smattering of freckles along his nose, and with his sparkling blue eyes. "Now that's just wrong. A pretty girl like yourself should not be alone on a Friday night. If I wasn't working, I would make sure you were having a good time."

You spent the next couple of minutes enjoying Kyan's flirting, knowing he wouldn't push it past that. He knew you and Dean were a couple, and he respected Dean. After making sure your drink was full, Kyan left, promising to come back and dance with you during his break. Turning in your chair, you watched the rest of the patrons, as you let the alcohol soak into your system. 

Thinking to yourself how good of an idea this was, and how relaxed you were feeling, you took another sip of your drink when you noticed something strange towards the back of the bar where the pool tables sat. 

Both tables were busy, with groups of rowdy men playing the game. But behind them, stood a woman, bathed in shadows, and you had a feeling she was staring directly at you. Feeling uncomfortable, you turned back to the bar, just as Kyan passed by, his hands full of shot glasses. "You okay?" He asked you, concerned.

"Think I'm going to get some fresh air. Keep my seat for me?" You asked him as he set the glasses down. Coming around the bar, he placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Are you sure you're okay? I can get someone to cover my shift, and I can drive you home." He suggested, helping you to the door. You felt pale and unsettled, but it wasn't from the alcohol. 

Smiling up at him, you shook your head. "Nah, that's okay. I'll come back inside in a minute." You assured him.

Stepping out into the cool air, you took a deep breath, feeling much better. You couldn't believe how much that woman's glance had unsettled you. "I see you are unfaithful to Dean." A strangely familiar voice rang out from the side of the barn.

Turning carefully, you felt your heart drop and your skin turn cold as Amara walked out of the shadows, heading directly your way. "Amara!" You exclaimed, stepping back before feeling the wooden side of the bar hit your back.

"Y/N, it's been too long. I would have hoped you would have headed my warnings by now. But I see you are still by Dean's side. That is until you find someone new to play with. Does Dean know you're unfaithful?"

"Unfaithful? What the hell are you talking about?" You asked angrily, forgetting exactly who you were talking to.

Striding forward, she raised her hand, her black dress billowing behind her. You felt the pressure quickly, as her powers cut off your oxygen supply. "I saw you in the bar, with that bartender. As soon as Dean's gone on a hunt, you couldn't wait to find a new man, could you? Poor Dean."

Shaking your head, you clawed at the invisible hold on your throat. "He's a friend! Nothing more." You were barely able to get out.

"I should just kill you here and now. Get you out of my way." She said mainly to herself, the hold on you tightening. "But I think you could come in handy." She said, before grabbing a hold of your shoulder, and soon everything was black.


	108. Seeing For Yourself

Everything was only pitch black for seconds, but when your vision cleared, you weren't surprised to see you were now far away from the bar. Still cold and damp like you were outside, you were in some storage place, long forgotten. 

With Amara standing in front of you, she raised her hand, and an invisible force sent you reeling backwards, where you ran into a tall metal structure. Cold ropes ran around your arms and your legs, holding you in place. "There, that's better." She announced, as you fought against your binds, trying to get free.

"Why? Why did you do this?" You asked her, the magical ropes tightening against your skin, burning as you fought. 

"You don't deserve Dean. All you do is distract him, and keep him away from me." She argued, the wind picking up around her.

"Dean doesn't want to be around you. He's working with his brother, trying to figure out a way to get rid of you!" You yelled at her, tired of being pulled around by her. She could either kill you now, or get it through her head that Dean wasn't hers.

"He might be trying, but once he gets around me, he will forget all that nonsense." She spat. "Dean and I will be together for eternity. You, you are just a fly on the wall, forgotten after a seconds notice."

It was no use arguing with her. She had these strange thoughts in her mind, and she wouldn't see past them. In your heart you knew Dean loved you, and he would always love you. Even if the pull of Amara was too strong for him to resist, that wasn't because he didn't love you.

She could see you calming down, without giving in, and it did nothing more but annoy her. Closing her eyes, she raised her arms, and you winced, wondering what new sort of torture she was planning for you. Before she could do anything, her eyes popped back open and a smile graced her face. "I have an idea. Let's have you see Dean with me. Then you can see how drawn he is to me, and how pathetic your little love for him is."

With a snap of her fingers you were freed from the cords cutting into your body, and Amara had a grip on your arm. Once again she was pulling you into blackness, and when you finally landed, it took you more than a second to catch your breath and keep yourself from throwing up at the jerky movement.

"Now, don't worry about trying anything." Amara warned. "You are invisible, and I've made it so you can't move. Where I go, you go, but that's it."

Not heading her words, you thrashed against her hold, but it held tight, leaving you like a puppet, with invisible strings tied to her. Glancing around, you saw you were at a park, full of people with children or just enjoying the nice sunshine. "What are we doing here?" You asked her as she peered around like she was looking for someone.

"You'll see soon enough." Was her reply, a smile on her face.

As a couple passed by you, you yelled out to them, hoping they could hear you and maybe help, but all it did was make Amara laugh. "You didn't think I'd silence you as well? No one can hear you, except me. But if you keep talking that might change soon."

With no other course but to stay silent, you let yourself be tugged along, towards the busier part of the park, where food carts were set up. As you struggled against her hold, you saw a familiar set of broad shoulders encased in a suit. "Dean?" You whispered, watching as he frowned. He was talking on his phone, while ordering a couple of hot dogs, and he did not seem happy at all. Maybe he had realized you were gone, and was trying to find you.

"That's why we're here. So you can see what a losing battle you're fighting." She said smugly as she walked over to him. You had no choice but to follow, wishing you could somehow warn Dean away. 

"Cas, if you can hear me, please help. Amara's got me, and she's heading straight for Dean. Can you warn him, please?" You silently begged in your head, not knowing if Cas was busy, or if he could hear you at all. But it was your only shot, and you were going to take it no matter what. 

"Dean." Amara stated, watching as he swiveled his head, his gaze landing on her. He looked shocked, and you watched as he straightened his shoulders.

"Amara, what are you doing here?" He asked.

"We need to talk." She replied, snapping her fingers and moving the three of you from the park to a empty field. "There, that's better." 

"Amara, what do you want?" He asked again, as she reached out towards him. You let out a small squeal of joy when he stepped back, away from her touch.

"To see you. It's been too long." She answered, frowning at his movements.

"Why did you butcher those people?" He asked, as you continued to try to get free, hoping that while she dealt with Dean she had forgotten about you.

"I'm just trying to get my brother's attention. That is all." She answered.

Dean seemed angered at her answer, like you knew he would be. "It's your mess. I don't care who threw the first punch, or who is mad at the other person. It's your mess and you're taking innocent lives, taking their souls."

She took a step towards him, and you could feel her hold on you crack, just the slightest bit. "If it makes you feel any better, their souls are within me. They will go on forever."

"No, that doesn't make me feel any better. They were people, they didn't deserve to get in the middle of your little spat." Dean growled, no where under her control like she had said.

"Dean!" You screamed, hoping that the little crack of her hold was enough for your voice to be heard.

He straightened, glancing around. "What was that? Amara, are you hiding Y/N? She went missing, and I should have known you would have something to do with it!"

With a sigh, Amara snapped her fingers, and Dean finally saw you, still tethered behind her. "Y/N, are you alright?"

Nodding, he turned his attention back to Amara. "Leave her out of this."

"She needed to see. That she isn't the only one who has a hold on you. That you will always come when I call. That's why you were at that park today. You felt me, you couldn't stay back."

"Let her go." He growled, as she stepped even closer to him. You watched as he pulled a silver blade out of his coat, reaching up and slamming it into her. And you watched as it shattered into a thousand pieces, falling to the floor like confetti. It did have one desired effect, her hold on you loosened, just as three Angels came into view, just behind Amara. 

"Dean!" You exclaimed, as he looked up in shock. Seeing the Angel's, he looked at you, his eyes wide.

"Dean, you need to go. But remember, you are meant to be with me. Not that girl." She said, and you rushed forward, grasping his hand just as she transported him out of the way of the Angel's threat.


	109. Lucifer's Cage

After Amara had thrown Dean out of harm's way, and you had been able to tag along, you found yourself back at the park where Amara had taken you to see Dean. Leaning over, you took deep, steadying breaths, the transporting messing with your system. You could see Dean doing the same thing next to you, both of you drawing strange looks from the people walking by.

"Y/N!" Dean finally exclaimed, standing up and wrapping his arms around you. "When we came back and you weren't there, I didn't know what happened."

"Amara found me. Said I was getting in your way. Thought I was cheating on you with him." You explained as he guided you towards his Impala. As soon as you were inside, Jensen pulled you to him, wrapping his hands in your hair as his lips crashed against yours. It wasn't his normal type of kiss, this one was greedy, full of need. His teeth nipping at your lip, his hands frantically pulling you closer.

Once he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours. "I know you would never cheat on me. We've been through too much together for something like that to happen. And you will never get in my way. She will never win over you." He insisted, before grasping your hand as he drove away. 

"Where are we going?" You asked him a short time later when you felt like you could talk again, his kiss had been that amazing. 

"About that." He hedged, making you know something big was happening. "Sam is sure that Lucifer is the one we need to help us, so he went to go talk to him. I just found out about it, just as Amara showed up."

"But how? Lucifer is locked in the cage! Isn't this going to tear Sam apart?" You asked, knowing how Sam tensed up at the name.

"Yeah, I"m not happy with it either. But's it what he thinks needs to be done. So we're hauling ass there as fast as we can, to make sure nothing else goes wrong."

Soon he was pulling into an alleyway, nothing like where you imagined a door to hell would be placed. "Are you sure?" You asked him, as you climbed out, noticing the curious looks the two of you were receiving. 

"Yeah, this is where Crowley told me to go." Dean answered, and you followed him to a side door. Knocking on it, he glanced around, just as a small metal window opened up. 

"Password." Came a strong female voice, and you chuckled softly as Dean disgustedly sang a little cheesy song, feeling extremely put out. 

It worked however, and the door clicked open. Stepping inside, you waited to see what would happen next. Dean nodded at the woman, like he had met her before. "Billy."

"Dean, it's good to see you again. And I see you brought Y/N with you this time." She said, her voice smooth and strong, full of pride and confidence. "Y/n, it's about time we've met. I thought I would have reaped you long before now."

You remember Dean telling you about her, how she was more than ready to reap the Winchester's souls. "Sorry. But I have too many things tying me down here to die yet."

She walked over to you, looking you up and down, before leaning to whisper in your ear. "I will be waiting. You are just like them, upsetting the balance, and soon you won't be able to be saved."

"Billy. We need to open the door. Now." Dean ordered, pulling her attention away from you.

Waving her hand, the wall across from you glowed, before opening to a stone staircase. "There it is, the entrance to hell. Good luck." 

Walking down the stairs, you shivered at the bones mixed in with the stone. It was dark, and gloomy, not a place you wanted to stay for long. "Dean!" Crowley exclaimed, coming around the corner. "I told you, you didn't have to worry about Sam."

"Have you met me?" Dean replied, and you held back a smile. "Where is he? What's going on?"

"This way." Was all he said, before he looked your way, winking at you. You wanted to deck the Demon. You hadn't forgiven him for what he had done to you. And he had done a lot. From separating you and Dean, making you work in that horrid club, to attempting to force you to marry him. Crowley had been nothing but a pain, and if you didn't need him right now, you would have gone after him.

"Y/N, it's been a while. I hope you've missed me as much as I've missed you." Crowley said softly next to your ear.

With a growl, you turned on him, but Dean grabbed you, stopping you from attempting to rip his head off. "Damn it Crowley!" Dean muttered, holding your flailing body.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself." He said, before distancing himself from the two of you. 

With his hands on your shoulders, Dean turned you to face him. "Y/N, I know you can't stand him, and after everything he did, I understand why. But can you please not kill him, yet?"

Taking a deep breath, you nodded. Letting Dean take your hand, the two of you followed behind Crowley, while you scowled at him. Turning into a room, you noticed Sam right away. He was in a large iron cage, with Lucifer crowding him into a corner. Bloody and bruised, you could tell Sam was terrified. 

Rowena stood off to the side, frantically looking through a book. "As you can see, things haven't gone exactly to plan." Crowley muttered off to the side. "There must be a crack in the original cage, otherwise Lucifer should have none of his powers. He shouldn't have been able to do this."

"And you told me not to worry?" Dean growled, striding forward. 

"Dean, I came as fast as I could." Cas' voice sounded behind you, the Angel striding into the room. "This is not good." 

"No, it sure the hell isn't." You agreed, just as Lucifer realized that he had a bigger audience. 

"Sammy, look your brothers here! And his little girlfriend. My, isn't she pretty. Her and I might have to have some fun later on." Lucifer exclaimed, walking over to the side of the cage. "And my little bro Cas. Still wearing the same trenchcoat I see."

Before any of you could even come up with a retort, Lucifer snapped his fingers, and the three of you were in the cage too. Dean raced over to Sam, kneeling down and making sure he was okay. Cas stepped forward, trying to shield you behind his body, but Lucifer had other ideas. With a flick of his wrist, Cas went flying across the cage, smacking into the bars, leaving you standing next to Lucifer. Squaring your shoulders, you looked up at him, acting braver than you felt. 

"Hello Y/N." He murmured, reaching over and grabbing you by the arm. Pulling you tight to his chest, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Let's have some fun, shall we? I've been so bored."


	110. No Help

As Lucifer held you tightly to him, his hand rubbing circles against your neck, Dean's entire body tensed up. He raced forward, only to be thrown back against the bars of the cage. Sam was too shaken up to do anything but sit there, but Cas came rushing forward just to meet the same fate as Dean.

"Tsk, tsk." Lucifer teased them, his hand moving up, squeezing your neck tight enough that you couldn't draw a complete breath. "You keep trying, and I might just get fed up and end this sweet little girl's life. You don't want that, do you?"

Breathing heavily, Dean stood off to the side, Cas and a shaken Sammy beside him. Dean's eyes were on you, pleading with you not to do anything stupid. 

"There, that's better. It's been quite a while since I've had visitors, and it's a nice change." He conversed, his hand slowly releasing your neck until you could breathe normally again. "I just wish it was a social call, and not because you needed something."

"Let her go and then we can talk." Dean growled, making Lucifer laugh.

"Let go of this pretty thing? I think not." He teased Dean, his other arm wrapping possessively around your waist. 

Not wanting to be the damsel in distress any longer, you winked at Dean, who shook his head no at you, before slamming your elbow back, into Lucifer's ribs. Shoving your foot behind you, you stomped down as hard as you could on his foot. Hearing him grunt, you started to pull away from him, Dean reaching for you to pull you as far away as possible.

Thinking you had gotten away, you were shocked to find out Lucifer had grabbed you by your hair, pulling you backwards, right back into his arms. "Y/N!" Dean yelled, rushing forward only to be slammed back again. "You bitch." Lucifer growled deep and low, the teasing in his voice long gone. 

Wrapping his hand around your neck again, he shoved you against the bars, the back of your head colliding painfully. Still cutting off your air supply, he raised his hand. "Now, I know it's not polite to hit women, but I am Lucifer after all." He remarked, before smashing his fist against your cheek. 

In the background you could hear Sam, Dean and Cas fighting against the hold Lucifer still had on them. Your cheek pounding with pain, you raised your face, spitting in his. It was a horrible idea, and you knew it, but you also knew that if he was utterly distracted with you, his hold on them might slip. At least you were hoping. 

With an inhuman growl, he let go, both hands pounding against you, hitting everywhere he could manage, your face, your chest, your stomach. Each hit was hard, with his supernatural powers behind them, and you wanted to curl into a ball. As his hand came down to connect with your face again, Dean raced forward, tackling an unsuspecting Lucifer to the ground. Sam raced forward, leaning down to check on you, while Cas went to help Dean.

"Go help Dean." You tried ordering Sam through your busted lip, but he shook his head. 

"Dean would kill me if I didn't protect you." He argued, the two of you watching as Dean and Cas were barely holding their own against Lucifer. 

"What's the chance we all make it out of here anyways?" You asked, as Dean went flying once again. Landing against the side of the cage, he lay there, shaking his head to clear it. Stalking towards him, you could tell Lucifer was bent on killing him. "Sam, you need to go save him!" You exclaimed, just as Cas jumped back up, wrapping himself around Lucifer's shoulders. They both fell to the ground, just as you heard Rowena start chanting some sort of spell.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed, hearing it too. Dean was staggering to his feet, moving to help Cas again but a bright light filled the entire cage. Covering your eyes, you waited to see what would happen. It wasn't until you landed with a thump on the ground that you chanced opening them. All four of you were out of the cage, and it was empty. Dean was struggling to his feet, as was Cas. Sam was kneeling down, his hand on your knee as he tried to make sure you were okay. 

"Where's Lucifer?" You asked, as Dean came over, taking his brother's spot.

"Back in his cage." Rowena announced as she stood next to Crowley, looking unhappy. 

Dean gently cupped your cheek, wincing at the bruises and cuts lining your face. "You okay?"

"i just got beat up by Lucifer, but yeah I'll be okay." You answered him, as you watched Cas. "Not sure he will be though." 

Dean looked Cas' way, before shrugging. "He got beat up pretty good in there too. He'll be fine." Dean told you, before helping you to your feet. Your ribs were sore, and your face was already starting to swell, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle. Especially with Dean's arm around you. 

Sam led the way past Crowley and Rowena, while Dean stayed by your side, helping you out into the hallway. It wasn't long until you were back outside, and you took a breath of fresh air, trying to clear the smell of brimstone. Gently sitting down in the back of the Impala, you watched as Dean walked over to Cas. As they talked, you peered at Cas closely, wondering why he seemed a little different somehow. 

"Sam, do you think Cas is acting different?" You asked him as he climbed into the passengers seat. Sam looked over to where Dean was patting Cas on the back.

"No, don't think so." He answered, just as Dean came back. Leaving the wondering to yourself, you listened to Sam explain what had happened between him and Lucifer. Leaning back, you let the two of them talk, knowing if you missed anything important Dean would catch you up. Closing your one good eye, you let the gentle rocking of the car soothe you, lulling you to sleep as Dean headed back towards the bunker.


	111. Unexpected Visitor

After dealing with Lucifer, you had expected things to heat up with your search for Amara. The first couple of days you had spent relaxing, all of you sore from your dealings with Lucifer. But soon, Sam and Dean were itching for a hunt again, taking off to deal with some sort of monster that killed with a song. You stayed back, giving the brothers some time together.

Things had been stressed since Sam had gone to talk to Lucifer without Dean's knowledge. So, you thought maybe a hunt, just the two of them would be the thing they needed to get back on the same page. Because if they weren't on the same page, hunting down Amara would be near impossible. 

While they were gone, you spent your time trying to pinpoint where Amara had taken you. It had been a old metal building, and you were looking up as much records as you could, trying to figure out exactly what it was, and where it was located. Maybe then, you would have one thing up on her, which would be a big deal. 

As you searched through everything you could on the internet, you heard a loud bang. With your heart in your throat, you grabbed Dean's hidden gun under the table, holding out in front of you as you made your way to the sound. With the bunker being old, there was always random sounds, but this was louder, much more forceful than that of old pipes. Following the clattering sounds, you rounded the corner, surprised when you heard Castiel's voice muttering loudly to himself. 

Opening the door, you saw him standing in the middle of the old filing room, his hands on his hips as he portrayed the mess around him. "Cas, what the hell are you doing?" You asked, lowering the gun once you realized there was no longer a threat. 

"Y/N? I didn't realize you had stayed behind." He said, his voice sounded different. Lighter and a little sassier than you were used to. Narrowing your eyes at him, you stepped farther into the small, dusty room.

"I didn't think Sam and Dean needed my help for this case. But, what are you doing in the records room." You asked again, still not sure that everything was okay with Cas. You were the only one who felt it, but ever since the meeting with Lucifer, Cas had seemed to be acting different. 

"I just figured I could come and try to help out. Figure out a way to kill Amara. Maybe see if there was something the Men of Letters were hiding." He answered, coming to stand up closer to you. 

"We've been looking pretty hard, and haven't found anything yet." You told him as you watched him closely. Surprised when he stepped right up to you, his chest almost brushing yours. 

"Y/N, you know I'm able to do things that humans can't. Like locate something that's hard to find, or..." He let the words die off, the suggestion hanging in the air.

Taking a step back, you stared up at the man you had considered a friend. A man who normally would have never hit on you. He knew you were happy with Dean. "Cas, maybe you should just go. I'll keep looking. Let you know if I find anything."

With a wink at you, he was gone, and you found yourself sagging against the door, wondering what was going on with your Angelic friend.

___________________________________________

Days passed, and Cas didn't return. Grateful for that fact, you spent your time in the records room, trying to figure out exactly what it was he was looking for. It was there Dean found you when he finally came back from the hunt. 

"What are you doing in this dusty room?" He asked, leaning against the door as you went through the files Cas had pulled out. You knew you looked a mess. Covered in dust, your hair messy and falling out of it's bun. 

"Cas stopped by while you were gone, was looking through things in this room when I finally found out it was him. Didn't stop and say hi, or anything. Just came right into here." You explained, holding your hand up to Dean. Coming forward, he helped you to your feet, before taking his knuckle and wiping some dust off of your face.

"I think he feels responsible about this whole thing with Amara." Dean suggested. "Cas is just working hard trying to figure out a way to put her back where she belongs."

"We all are." You argued. "But he's still acting weird. I think something's up."

"I'll keep an eye out." He gave in. "But I just think he's stressed right now. You know how he is. That man has never learned to relax."

"Well, he is an Angel." You pointed out. "But listen, why don't I get cleaned up, then we can figure out what we want for dinner. And you can tell me all about this hunt you went on."

______________________________________

Only a short time later you were dust free, wearing comfy pants and a flannel of Dean's. Heading into the kitchen, you weren't surprised to see Sam sitting at the table, while Dean stood at the stove, cooking away. 

"What's for dinner?" You asked him, coming up to wrap your arms around his waist. Smelling something delicious, you looked over his shoulder.

"Pasta. Sam's got the salad mixed, why don't you slice the bread." He suggested, pointing to the loaf of french bread sitting on the counter. They must have stopped at the store on their way home. 

Soon, the three of you were eating dinner together, in a comfortable silence as your mouths were full. It was nice having both brothers back, the bunker get's too quiet sometime. "So, are you going to tell me about this hunt of yours?"

"Not much to tell. Except Dean got hit on by an older woman." Sam teased, earning a glare from his brother.

"Of course he did. But aren't you the one they usually go for?" You asked him, watching as a slight blush covered his cheeks. 

"They usually do, but Sam had already found his girl. A pretty little hunter." Dean explained, and you gaped at Sam.

"Did you get her number?" You asked him, enjoying how flustered he was. 

"I gave her mine. Not because I was interested." He clarified quickly. "But because she was a hunter, a woman of letters, you could say."

"Oh that's cool! I would have loved to meet her." You exclaimed, just as Dean's phone rang. Watching as he picked it up, he quickly put it on speaker phone. 

"Hey Claire. What's up?" He asked, and you glanced at him in surprise. After everything that had happened between the two of them, you hadn't expected her to reach out to him. 

"I've got a hunt up here, and I could use your help with it." She pleaded, and Dean looked to Sam. When he nodded, Dean continued.

"Yeah sure. Give us some time and we'll be up there." He assured her before hanging up. "So Y/N, you up for meeting Jody and the girls?"


	112. Awkward Family Dinner

It was a fairly long drive up to South Dakota, and about halfway through you had given up. Stretching out in the back seat, you had wadded up Dean's coat, using it as a pillow. With his familiar smell saturating the coat, you quickly fell asleep, the rumbling of the Impala your lullaby.

When you finally woke back up, the Impala had stopped, and you could hear the creak of the doors as both Sam and Dean climbed out at the same time. Yawning, you sat up just as Dean opened the door. "Hey sleepyhead, time to wake up. We're here."

Glancing out the window, you saw the sky was a glorious sunset, full of pinks and oranges, settling over a nice ranch house. You weren't sure what you expected, but a normal looking house wasn't it. With a pickup off to the side, it looked like it could belong to any normal family. "This where Jody lives?" You asked, stretching your back as you tried to get the kinks out.

"Sure is. Ready to finally meet her?" Dean asked, his hand resting against your lower back.

"Yep. If she's anything like Donna I think we'll get along just fine." You told him as Sam came to stand next to you, laughing at your comment. "What?" You asked him, watching as his hair went flying as he shook his head. 

"Comparing Jody to Donna is like comparing Dean to Garth. Their both amazing women, but completely different. I think you'll like her though." Sam told you, leading the way up the driveway just as the front door opened and a beautiful woman stepped out. She was wearing jeans and a flannel, her hair a shiny brown and short. Wishing you were brave enough to try a hair cut like that, you hung back, letting Sam and Dean get engulfed in hugs as the reunion happened.

"So, this must be Y/N." Jody announced, pushing past Dean to give you a huge hug as well. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Nice meeting you too." You mumbled, squished in her hug. 

Pulling back, she was smiling wide, glancing back at Sam and Dean. "Not sure what you're doing up here in my neck of the woods, but it sure is good to see you." 

"Claire called." Sam explained as you walked into the house. It was warmly decorated, even with the outdated furniture. It was a place you could easily feel at home in. You saw Jody roll her eyes, her hands on her hips.

"That girl," She complained. "She's bound and determined to hunt. I've had to pull strings so many times so she wouldn't end up in jail."

"She's not settling in well?" Sam asked, as a dark haired girl walked into the room, glancing at you warily. 

"We can talk about that later. But for now, you guys are staying for dinner, aren't you? I have chicken cooking."

"Of course!" Dean exclaimed, his mouth almost drooling at the thought of a home cooked meal. 

"Alex, you remember Sam and Dean. This is Dean's girlfriend, Y/N." Jody introduced you.

"Oh, I think Jody's talked about you." Alex answered, as you went with her and Jody into the kitchen, helping them finish getting dinner ready. You could tell the girl was reluctant to talk to you, not shy by wary and unsure. And you didn't blame her. Dean had told you a little of her story, and your heart bled for the girl and the life she had to live. It made you want to hug Jody for taking both girls in. It couldn't have been an easy task.

After some awkward small talk, mainly between you and Jody, the five of you were sitting down at the table, with no Claire to be seen. "So, where's Claire?" Dean asked, as he eyed the amazing looking chicken in front of him.

"I'm here!" She exclaimed, throwing her book bag down as she came racing into the dining room. "Sorry I'm late!"

"Go wash up. We'll wait." Jody told her patiently. With her blonde curly hair bouncing, she raced off to the bathroom, her energy overflowing. 

Once she was seated back down, and food was being passed around, Dean brought up the conversation of the hunt. "It's nothing." Jody explained as she handed Dean the mashed potatoes. Watching as he piled them high on his plate, you rolled your eyes with Sam. "Another misunderstanding, another innocent person blamed. Right now Claire needs to be concentrating on her college."

Watching as the smile faded from the girl's face, you felt sorry for the girl. She had lost both of her parents to the supernatural, feeling lost and alone. Hunting was probably her only lifeline. "Jody..." She started, but Jody gave her a Mom look, shutting her up instantly. 

"We aren't going to talk about that at the dinner table." Jody reprimanded her. "Now, how was school today Alex?"

"Okay, I guess. Did great on the pop test." She said, ripping her roll into tiny pieces. 

"Are you going to tell Jody about your plans this weekend? How your gonna get it on with that boyfriend of yours?" She asked, causing Dean to choke on his mashed potatoes. Reaching over, you patted him on his back. 

"Claire!" Alex exclaimed, giving her fake sister a glare.

"Is that why I saw birth control in your backpack today?" Jody asked, and you could tell both boys were feeling uncomfortable at the way the conversation was going. You didn't blame them, it wasn't a comfortable subject for anyone. "I know you think birth control is a good enough safety precaution, but it doesn't always work. So make sure he suits up before you get too busy. A guy should always be prepared. Right guys?" Jody asked, pointing her stare to Sam and Dean, who looked very interested in their food all of a sudden. 

"Jody's right." You told Alex, wanting to help her out. Dean glanced up, staring at you in surprise. "Birth control doesn't always work. So make sure you have the right protection, or tell him no." 

"I'm done with this." Alex grumbled, standing up and tossing her napkin down on the table. As she walked away, you didn't miss the slight smile on Claire's face. 

"Claire, why don't you finish dinner in your room. Let me talk with Sam, Dean and Y/N."

With a frown, Claire stood up, taking her plate and striding away.

"Ugh." Jody complained. "I don't know about you guys, but I could use another glass of wine." She said, standing up and heading into the kitchen.

"Awkward." Dean whispered, and you kicked him in the shin. "Ouch!"

"You could have helped her." You chided him. "Jody has a tough job, raising two girls who haven't exactly had a normal life. She isn't their mom, so she has to be careful how she handles situations like that. The least you could have done is back her up."

"Thank you Y/N." Jody said, coming back with a pie, and you watched Dean's eyes get huge. "It is a really thin line to walk, and both girls are strong and stubborn. But we're trying to work things out."


	113. Back in School

"Y/N, you go talk to her." Dean whispered, pushing you towards Claire's room. Digging your heels in, you glared back at him.

"Why me? She doesn't know me, she knows you, and she knows Sam!" You argued, as his hands kept their forceful push against your shoulders. 

"Because you're, well, you're a woman. And closer to her age." He argued, as if that made a huge difference. "Maybe she'll talk to you, open up to you. Claire and I haven't always seen eye to eye."

Sighing in defeat, you stopping fighting, making him almost fall on top of you. "Dean, I'm only like four years younger than you, still so much older than a teenager. But I will try. Maybe a fresh face will help."

"Thank you!" He breathed, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. 

With your hands in your pockets, you made your way to her door, having no idea what you were going to say to the poor girl. With trepidation, you knocked on her door, hearing a muffled enter. Pushing the door open, you stepped into what could still be considered a guest room. No personal items lined the wall, unless you counted her evidence wall off to the right. No pictures of musicians or actors, nothing that normally graced a teenagers room. "Hey Claire." You said softly, as she lay there, her laptop in front of her.

"Oh, hey Y/N." She said, her attention never leaving her laptop.

"So, about this hunt..." You started, not sure what you were going to say, but at the mention of the word hunt her gaze turned up, her attention fully on you.

"I know there's something happening around her." She said. "Are you going to help me with it?"

"Claire, can we please just talk." You begged, watching as the hope faded from her eyes and she sank back down on the bed. "Why are you so fixated on hunting, and not going to school? I know Jody's trying very hard to help you out."

"I don't want to go to school. I don't fit in there. I want to kill monsters." She argued, and you didn't blame her. 

"Claire, a hunting life isn't a good one..." You started to say but she interrupted you.

"Then why do you do it? I get Sam and Dean, it's all they've ever known. But you? You were born to this, you're just like me. If you do it, why can't I?" She asked you.

"Because you're young, and you have a choice. I didn't have a choice, not really. Maybe at first I did, but then things kept happening, and there is no way out of this life for me now except at the end of the gun or at some monster's hands. We care about you Claire, and we want you to make the right choice before it's too late for you." 

"I guess." She muttered, but you could easily see you hadn't made a difference at all. 

The next morning you found yourself dressed in your FBI threads as you made your way to Alex's school. There had been another death, and you were beginning to wonder if Claire was right and there was actually something going on in this town. Standing off to the side with Jody, you let Sam and Dean examine the body, which had been pulled down from the flag pole. 

"Damn it." Jody muttered. "I was hoping that Claire was just on a wild goose chase, but it looks like she might be right after all."

"She is a smart girl. A little rough around the edges but she has a good head on top of those shoulders." You told her.

"That's a nice way to put it." She agreed just as Claire came bounding through the crime scene tape, Alex and a boy not far behind her. 

"See!" She exclaimed. "I knew there was something else going on. And now you have these fake FBI men checking it out!"

"Claire, keep your voice down." Jody growled, grabbing Claire by the arm and pulling her away from the crime scene.

Alex came and stood next to you, the boy with his arm wrapped around her waist. Realizing he was the one that was hoping to get lucky this weekend you raised an eyebrow at him. "This is horrible." She whispered, leaning into the boys shoulder.

"You knew the victim?" You asked her, and she nodded.

"He was my math teacher. My favorite teacher." She replied, just as Sam and Dean joined you.

"Agents." You greeted them, watching as Alex's boyfriend gulped nervously. 

"Morning Alex. Who is this?" Dean asked, staring down the boyfriend.

"Alex, you know FBI agents?" He questioned her, and she nodded. 

"Yep. Jody's friends."

"We hold Alex in high regards. So if I ever hear of anyone, ever, hurting her, we will use all of our FBI skills to make sure they never see the light of day. Understood?" Dean growled, and you had to stiffle a laugh as the boys face paled considerably. 

"Understood." He gulped before Alex pulled him away.

"Nice one Dean. I didn't care for the boy either." You said as he wrapped his arms around your shoulder. 

Later that day, the three of you were still busy interviewing everyone at the high school. It was tedious work, and you wanted nothing more than to be done and back at Jody's relaxing with the promised meal of ribs. "Are we done yet?" You complained to Dean as Sam went on ahead.

"Almost." He answered. "But I thought you would like being back in high school. You were probably the popular girl that everyone loved."

"Far from it." You answered. "I worked hard trying to just make it through the four years. Staying in the shadows. Sure I had my group of friends, but popular? I was a far cry from that."

"I never knew if I would be popular or not. We were never in one place long enough for me to make many friends, or join any of those stupid clicks." He told you, and you squeezed his hand. As you followed Sam, Dean's phone rang, and letting go of your hand he answered it. "This is Agent... Jody, what's up?" He asked, stopping in the hallway.

You watched as his smile turned into a frown. "We're on our way."

"Someone took Claire. And while Jody was talking I think they took her too. All I could hear was screaming and yelling at the end." He told you, before racing to get Sam.


	114. Pool

Hunting was hard. When there were hostages that made it even more so. But when those hostages were close friends of yours, it was a horrible, gut wrenching feeling. Especially when one of those was a young girl who had already gone through so much. 

"Someone needs to check on Alex." You said, trying to take your mind off of Jody and Claire as you rushed to the Impala. 

"Y/N's right. We need to split up." Sam agreed, the three of you coming to a stop in the parking lot. 

"I'll go check on Alex, you two go to Jody's." Dean suggested, a different suggestion than you were expecting. You had automatically assumed you would be staying with Dean, not heading out with Sam.

"Okay." Sam answered, as Sam glanced at the car next to the Impala. Within moments he had it hot wired, and the two of you were heading towards Jody's place.

"Why do you think Dean had me go with you?" You asked, still curious. 

"I guess since we're heading to the bigger threat. Alex is just a warning, while we're heading to where Jody and Alex were last seen."

"I hope they're all right." You said softly, staring out the window.

"Jody and Claire are tough. Even if they've been taken, they will be smart." He assured you.

Nodding, you watched out the window, the sun setting off in the distance. As soon as Sam was pulling into the driveway, you were out of the car, your gun out in front of you. Heading towards the garage, you froze when you noticed Jody's phone laying on the ground, the screen crushed. "Damn it." You whispered as Sam came to stand next to you.

As Sam leaned down, frowning as he looked at a spot of blood, your phone rang. Seeing Dean's picture on the phone, you quickly answered it, his tone of voice not boding well. "Alex is gone too. Her phone tossed in the trash."

"Where the hell are they?" You asked, as Sam stood up, dusting his hands off. It was then things started clicking, and you knew. "Wait, I remember hearing about an abandoned building on the edge of the school. It matches with the material found on the body. I bet they are there!" You exclaimed, grabbing Sam by the coat and trying to pull the lumbering man out of the garage.

"That's why I love you. You put that brain of yours to good work. Meet you there?" He said proudly. "Oh and Y/N? Stay safe!"

"We've got to go!" You exclaimed, pushing Sam towards the stolen car. Once the two of you were in, he gunned it as fast as the poor car would go, heading back towards the school where you had just left. Hoping that they were still okay.

There wasn't a parking lot close to the old abandoned swimming pool so you had to park all the way in front. After dusting your prints from the stolen car, you started the long trek to the run down building. Confirming your thoughts, the wooden bars had been pulled away from the door. Stepping through the small entrance, you listened carefully for the sounds of a struggle. 

As you waited for Sam to fold his long body through the small hole in the door, you could hear the sounds of Claire, and her sarcastic comments. Thankful that she was still alive, you turned to Sam. "So, we're here. They're still alive. But what about weapons? I have my gun, but it won't work against vampires."

"Our first priority is getting them safe and out of there. Hopefully by then Dean will be here, and he should have his machete with him." Sam explained. 

Quietly walking up the hall, you could hear Alex pleading with whoever was holding them to leave Jody and Claire alone. Without another thought, you stepped through the heavy plastic sheeting, shooting the man holding Claire. Sure, it would do nothing but piss him off, but maybe it would give you enough of a surprise entrance to do something. 

It must have worked, because Claire was able to stumble away, landing on the ground with a sob. Both Jody and Alex were chained to the railing, bloody but okay. Racing forward, you tackled the Vampire to the ground as Sam came in, heading straight to Jody and Alex. 

"She deserves it, and more." The Vampire growled, slamming your head against the floor. Holding in a groan, you wrapped your hands around his neck, trying to pry him away from you. Baring his teeth, he leaned down, sinking them into your neck. Screaming loudly, you kicked hard, kicking him off. Not sure if that was a good idea as his teeth ripped out of your neck. Pressing your hand to the wound, you looked up to see frantically racing into the room, his eyes zeroing in on you. Pulling your hand back, it was covered with blood, but you knew it wasn't fatal.

With a machete in his hand, he raced towards the vampire as another one decided to join in on the fun. Rushing forward, it knocked both it and Dean into the empty pool, Dean's machete flying out of his hand.

Struggling to stand up, the Vampire crept closer to you. Reaching out frantically for anything to use as a weapon, your eyes widened as you watched the Vampires head fly cleanly off. A hard breathing Claire standing behind him, her face splattered with blood. 

"Dean!" She exclaimed, tossing down the machete, and with a clean sweep, Dean ended the life of the other vampire.

"Well, that was fun." You said sarcastically. Sam was helping Jody to her feet, a grimace on her face as she stayed off of one leg. 

"I'm so sorry." Alex kept whispering over and over. "This is all my fault."

Reaching over, you patted her on the shoulder. "It isn't. Not at all. Those stupid Vampires are to blame."

You could see she wasn't completely believing you, but maybe Jody would be able to talk some sense into the girl.

With all of you crowding into the Impala, you made your way back to Jody's. As soon as you pulled up, the girls raced inside, while Jody limped along. "Why do they always go after my leg?" She muttered. 

Once inside, she began pulling tupperware containers from the fridge. "These were for dinner last night, but that never happened. I'm gonna send them home with you. I know those boys of yours will chow down on them."

You could just imagine the look on Dena's face as he munched happily on the ribs. Taking them from her, you sat them down on the table before pulling her into a hug. "I'm so glad I finally met you. Thank you for being there for them when I'm not."

"They're good guys. Better than they both know." Jody said as she watched the two men talking to Alex. "And you've made Dean better. He loves you, and he's going to do whatever he can to make sure that love stays safe."


	115. Valentine's Day

“Seriously?” You whined as you sat at the kitchen table, staring at Sam. “You found us another hunt? But it’s valentine’s day, and Dean promised me that he would finally try this Valentine’s day. Maybe not the normal, fancy dates, but something better than a beer at the bar.”  
“I’m sorry Y/N, but it just popped up, and I don’t think we can afford to let this one go.” He apologized, just as Dean came stumbling into the room. With a knowing smile on your face, you watched as he stumbled around the kitchen, his eyes partly closed as he went to the fridge. Opening up an old take out, you hid your laugh as he spat it out immediately.  
“Y/N, aren’t you mad?” Sam whispered, as Dean stumbled to the coffee pot.  
“Why?” You asked Sam, enjoying the show of a hungover Dean. You knew exactly why he was acting this way, but you were curious to see what Sam was going to say.  
“It’s unattached drifter’s Christmas. He only acts this way when he’s gone out to the bar and hooked up.” Sam explained, his face showing how bad he felt for you.  
Patting his shoulder as Dean came to sit down next to you, you smiled. “Sam, I know exactly why Dean’s acting the way he is. And it’s not because he went and had a one night stand. I’m surprised you couldn’t hear us last night. After all, I was pretty loud.” You told him before walking out of the kitchen, leaving the two men alone.  
It was true though. You were completely bummed that your Valentine’s day was going to be ruined because of another stupid monster. It wasn’t as if you were big into the holiday. But you thought that it would be nice for you and Dean to forget about everything for one night, spending it together. Maybe spending another night together much like you had last night.  
Sighing, you headed into the room you shared, planning on packing. Throwing open drawers, you began pulling out items for both you and Dean when you came across a small, red box in his t-shirt drawer. Holding it in your hands, you stared down at it. It thrilled and scared you at the same time. Knowing that there could be something in there that completely changed your life. Wanting to open it, but not wanting to ruin the surprise.  
“Y/N, did Sam tell you about…” Dean’s voice echoed through the room as he came walking in, seeming much more awake than before. Racing to put it back where you had found it, you dropped it on the floor. “Did you open it?” He asked quietly, stepping forward and picking it up.  
“No. I didn’t mean to find it. I was just packing for our new hunt.” You pattered on, guilty at being caught even if you hadn’t opened it.   
“I wish we didn’t have to go on this hunt. I really had promised a nice evening for the two of us.” He explained to you as he placed the box in his coat pocket. “But, a raincheck?”  
“A raincheck sounds good.” You agreed. “So what are we dealing with this time? A ghoul? Rugaru?”  
“Not sure yet. Maybe a werewolf.” He told you as you finished packing for the two of you.   
“A werewolf? Isn’t it the wrong time of the month?” You asked him as the two of you headed towards the garage where Sam was already waiting.   
“I guess we’ll see.” He answered, as you moved to sit in the back, but Dean stopped you. “Sam, since this hunt is messing up our Valentine’s Day, Y/N gets to sit in the front with me.”  
Without arguing, Sam slid into the back seat, turning sideways so he could fit comfortably. “Dean, it’s not a big deal. I can sit back there.” You argued, hating the fact that you were taking Sam’s usual spot.  
“Y/N, he’ll be fine back there. The drive is only a couple of hours long, and I want you by my side. Trying to make up for missing out on Valentine’s Day.” He insisted, pulling you tight against him, his hands resting on your hips.  
“Fine. But if he starts fidgeting too much, I’m changing.” You insisted, and Dean nodded. Opening the door for you, you slid inside the car as he rounded the hood. Sitting down behind the wheel, he reached over, grasping your hand and pulling you tight against him.  
It was nice, sitting in the front seat, your head resting against Dean’s shoulder as he handled the Impala with ease. Led Zeppelin playing softly on the radio, and you turned to see Sam sound asleep, laying across the back seat. “See, I told you he would be fine.”   
“Dean.” You said a couple minutes later. “When this is all over with the darkness, can we just take a couple of days? Just you and me. It’s not that I don’t want Sam coming along, but I really just want some you and me time.”  
“That sounds amazing. It’s been one thing after another, and I don’t think we’ve had enough time just for us.” He agreed. “And we will get this thing with the darkness figure out.”  
“I know.” You answered. “We always do.”  
Silence soon filled the Impala except for the music of the radio playing. It was calm, and comforting, and for a minute you believed that you were just on a road trip, with no destination in mind. With Dean’s hand resting on your thigh, your head on his shoulder, it was actually a great way to spend Valentine’s day.


	116. Pampered

You had to admit, sitting in the front seat, cuddled up next to Dean as he drove the Impala was quickly becoming one of your all time favorite things. Sam was sleeping in the backseat, his long body crooked at an angle, and you hoped he wouldn’t wake up with a stiff neck.  
After a couple of hours, you heard Sam stirring in the back seat, sitting up and stretching his back. “How much longer?” He muttered, covering a huge yawn.  
“Town’s over that hill.” Dean answered him as Led Zeppelin played softly on the radio. “We’ll stop and get our room, then go check out a dead body.”  
Frowning at the thought, you missed the glance Dean sent your way. Sitting silently next to him as the town came into view, you watched as he passed by sleazy motel after sleazy motel. Glancing over at him in surprise, he just winked at you.  
Getting closer to down town, Dean turned the Impala in front of a nice looking motel. At least five stories tall, it was clean and well taken care of, with nice cars parked out in front. “Dean, what are you doing? This place has to be expensive.” You started arguing as the three of you climbed out of the car.   
“Let me do this. It’s the least I can do since this hunt ruined our Valentine’s day plans.” He insisted, and with a shake of your heard, you followed him into the lobby. It was all crystal and marble, with gleaming pillars, and a small waterfall in the middle. A restaurant stood off to one side, a spa beside it.   
“Wow.” You breathed, as Dean started talking to the hostess. “I can’t believe he’s doing this. It’s too expensive.”  
Sam was standing beside you, acting a little out of place in the fancy interior. “You know he wishes he could spoil you more than he does. He loves you, and wants to prove it to you as much as he can.”  
“But I don’t need fancy hotels, or jewelry. I just want to be with him.” You insisted to Sam, who just shrugged.   
“Dean is wanting to do everything in his power to make sure you don’t leave. The two of you hadn’t had the easiest of relationships, and he’s always had the fear that everyone he loves will leave him. So, he’s going to do things like this to show you how much he cares. It’s easier than saying the words.”  
“I don’t plan on leaving him. Ever. They’re going to have to pry my cold, lifeless fingers from him.” You insisted.  
“Yeah, we don’t really want that either.” Sam told you as Dean came over, a couple of keycards in his hands.   
“Sammy, got you your own room!” Dean exclaimed, handing his brother one of the cards.   
“So, what’s the plan?” You asked Dean as he came up and wrapped his arm around your waist.  
“Sam and I are going to check out the dead body, talk to the witnesses.” Dean started explaining, but you didn’t hear your name in any of that.  
“And what about me?” You asked, watching as a sly smile crossed Dean’s face.   
“Well, I figured there’s a spa here.” He hedged. “And I might have made it all inclusive. So while Sam and I do the dirty work, I figured you could go get yourself pampered.”   
“But Dean…” You started arguing, but he shook his head.  
“Nope. I’m not going to take no for an answer. Please, let me do this for you.” He pleaded with you, and you sighed, knowing you weren’t going to change his mind.  
“Fine. I’ll do the whole spa thing, which I’ve never done before. But tomorrow, I get to help out with the hunt.”  
“Deal!” Dean exclaimed, happy that you gave in.”  
As you waited at the elevator, you glanced at Sam’s room number. Your rooms were at least three rooms apart, and you glanced at Dean in surprise. Winking at you, he leaned down, whispering in your ear. “Didn’t want him next to us tonight, in case you get a little noisy like you sometimes do.”   
Blushing slightly, you made sure Sam hadn’t overheard his brother. Soon the three of you were piling into the elevator, an old lady joining the three of you. She was dressed in a fancy light pink suit, a string of pearls at her neck. Clutching her purse tightly to her chest, she stared up at Sam and Dean, visibly nervous being in the confined space with two, hulking men wearing jeans and flannel.   
Smiling at her, trying to reassure her, you rolled your eyes when she took a step back. Just then the door opened, and the three of you stepped out. Sam’s room was right next to the elevator, while yours was halfway down the hallway. Waving to Sam, you waited for Dean to open the room, stepping inside. It was just as pristine and fancy as the lobby, with dark wood furniture, and a light blue comforter. The bed was the softest you had ever sat upon, and the bathroom was almost the size of your room back at the bunker. It included a shower and a jacuzzi tub, and Dean whistled at the sight. “Can’t wait to use that tonight!” He exclaimed.   
Tossing both of your bags onto the table, he began changing into his FBI gear, while you lounged on the bed, propped up by at least ten pillows. “This is probably the fanciest place I’ve ever been.” You admitted. Sure it wasn’t the fanciest hotel to stay at, but it was still so much better than any other you had stayed at before.  
With his dress pants on, and his white shirt unbuttoned, Dean stopped and stared at you. “When this is all said and done, and the Darkness is taken care of, I’m going to take you somewhere nice. We’ll stay in the fanciest hotel I can find, even the suite. We’ll eat at fancy restaurants, and you can get pampered as much as you want.”  
Walking over to him, you ran your finger up his bare chest. “Or, maybe we could rent a place on a beach somewhere. Just the two of us. No neighbors, or fancy people looking down on us. Just you, me and the beach.”  
Pressing a kiss to your lips, you could feel the smile upon his face. “That sounds even better.”


	117. Spa Day

As soon as Sam and Dean left the hotel room, you made your way down to the spa. A little nervous, since it was your first time truly ever pampering yourself. The hallway to the spa was painted a pale blue, calming as classical music played softly from the speakers. Woman of various ages passed by you, dressed in fluffy white robes. Some even had green masks on their faces or white spreaders on their toes.  
“How can I help you?” A young woman, dressed in khakis and a blue polo shirt asked. She was standing behind the main desk, a smile on her face.  
“I believe I have an appointment.” You announced, feeling silly. You were a hunter, you weren’t meant for places like this. You never painted your toes. Sure, your hair was silky and smooth, but that was because of the shampoo you had stolen from Sam, not because you actually took care of it.  
Giving her your name, you waited nervously as she typed it into the computer, before whistling softly. “Yes, you do. It looks like you have the VIP pass.”  
“What’s that mean?” You asked her, as she handed you one of the fluffy robes, this one a light blue, along with a keycard.  
“It means you can go into any of our rooms, and you don’t have to wait. You bypass the lines.” She explained, handing the items over.  
“So, I can do whatever?” You asked her, and she nodded before guiding you down the hall to a small locker room. Pointing you to the locker, she continued.  
“Yep, but I suggest starting with the massage first. Henry’s here for only another hour, and he’s simply the best.” She said. “You can place your clothes in your locker, all you need to wear is the robe.”  
Nibbling on your lip, you quickly shed your clothes, grateful there was no one else in the locker room. Tying the robe securely around you, you glanced at the map, making your way out of the room. Knocking on the door marked 23, a young, very blond man opened it.  
“Ooh, a VIP.” He answered, a slight accent to his voice. “We don’t get them very often. Come in.”   
Stepping into the room, you saw the massage table laid out in the middle, with candles lit throughout the room. “I’ll be right back. Take your robe off, lay face down on the bed. You can use this towel to cover your lower self.” He instructed, leaving the room.  
As you placed your robe on the hanger, you wondered if Dean really knew what was going to happen. If he had realized that you were going to be naked in front of another man. Even if you were laying down on a table, you knew he wouldn’t like it. He was possessive.  
Henry came back a brief time later, getting to work without any delay. You melted like butter under his touch, your muscles relaxing for the first time since you could remember. “Have you ever had a massage?” He asked you, and you shook your head. “Your muscles are strong, very strong for a woman your size. But they are tight, with both tension and use. And these scars.”  
“I have a rough job.” Was all you told him.  
Almost an hour passed before he was satisfied with your work. Standing up, you almost fell back over as your muscled refused to follow your command. “That happens. Your muscles are relaxed, which isn’t the norm in your case. I suggest going and getting a pedicure. They have smoothies you can drink, will help rehydrate your body.”  
Hours later, feeling like a different person, you went back to your locker, grabbing your clothes. Instead of changing there, with at least five other women, you kept the robe on, making your way out into the main part of the hotel. People were coming and going. Couples heading into the fancy restaurant for date, families heading into the complimentary buffet. A couple of men glanced your way, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were wearing the robe, or if they liked the way you looked. As you waited for the elevator, one man, handsome and around your age came up to you.  
“I don’t usually do this. But I’m in town on business, and was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me. The name’s Mike by the way.” He asked, holding his hand out, looking as nervous as you had when you went into the spa.  
“That’s a nice offer, but…” You started, turning the nice man down gently, but an arm wrapped around your waist, a familiar voice answering for you.  
“She’s with me. So, move along buddy.” Dean practically growled, and the man scampered away.  
“Dean! I had it under control.” You chastised him, seeing him and Sam standing there, still in their FBI garb. Both men had loosened their ties, and you could sense Dean was itching to get out of the confining clothes, back in his normal attire.  
With his hand on your lower back, he guided you into the elevator. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He grumbled, the three of you the only ones on the ride. “Especially since you’re just wearing a robe. Is there anything underneath that?”  
“Maybe you’ll find out when we get back into our room.” You hinted, watching as his tongue slid out, licking his lower lip in anticipation.  
“So, Y/N how did you enjoy the spa?” Sam asked, changing the subject before things became too awkward for him.  
“It was actually nice.” You told him. “I was nervous at first, but the masseuse had amazing hands. He had my muscles relaxing in no time.”  
“He?” Dean asked, an eyebrow raising, exactly like you knew it would.  
“Yep, Henry. Young handsome man with the most amazing hands in the world.” You teased, just to rile him up. “It felt weird, especially with just a towel covering my butt, but it was worth it.”  
With a growl deep in his throat, Dean had you out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened. “Dinner’s gonna be late tonight Sammy.” Dean threw over his shoulder as he opened the door to your room.  
Pushing you inside, he shut and locked the door. Ready to head towards the bed, Dean grasped your arm, pressing you against the wall, his body caging you in. “I don’t like that another man had his hands on you Y/N.” He grumbled deep in his throat.  
“Don’t worry Dean. His hands weren’t the ones I wanted.” You whispered. With one hand above your head, he used the other to untie your robe, his hand sneaking in to find you naked underneath.  
“Damn Y/N. I think you’re trying to kill me.” He muttered, pressing a kiss to your lips as he slid the robe off your shoulders, letting it pull at your feet. With his knee, he gently pushed apart your legs, the denim rough against your bare skin. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed back fervently, arching into his touch when his hand latched onto your breast, his fingers gently rolling the nipple.  
Moving his lips down, he nibbled hungrily on your skin, and you knew there would probably be a mark there. “Dean.” You breathed, as his hand moved lower, tightening your stomach muscles. Sliding down lower, his thick and callused fingers slid through your fold, brushing around your clit before teasing your entrance.   
“So wet. Is it for me, or that masseuse?” He asked you, as his thumb came to press down on your clit. Wanting to press down, needing more, you groaned.  
“You, always and forever you.” You breathed out, before he picked you up, carrying you to the bed. Quickly shedding his clothes, he joined you on the bed, climbing between your sprawled legs.  
Without saying a word, he ran his hands up your thighs, the calluses on his hands creating a rough friction. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, before his mouth followed his hands, kissing along your inner thighs. Clenching your hands in the sheets, you resisted the urge to reach down, to grasp his spiky hair and press his head right where you were throbbing. He was taking his sweet time, and you were a squirming mess before his tongue finally licked its way up your folds.   
“Dean!” You exclaimed, unable to tell him exactly what you wanted. But the two of you had done this enough, he could play you better than any instrument, having you coming faster than anyone else ever had. He had ruined you for any other man, and you knew he was proud of that fact.   
As his mouth paid close attention to your little bundle of nerves, his fingers teased your entrance, barely sliding in, before moving back out. Writhing in place, you felt like you could explode at any minute. With a wink sent your way, Dean slid one deliciously long and thick finger inside you, curling it just right and you came undone.  
Screaming his name, your back arched as the pleasure coursed through your entire body, from your hair to the tips of your toes. As you came down from your high, Dean clambered up the bed, settling himself over you. Rubbing his tip along your entrance, he pressed inside while you were still reeling from the aftershocks.   
Tilting his head down, he captured your lips with his as he seated himself in one quick motion, and you almost came again from the sheer impact of it. Letting you get used to him, he began to slide in and out, slowly, his movements brushing against your sensitive clit. “More.” You pleaded with him. “Faster please. Dean!”   
“Anything for you.” He whispered, thrusting his hips back and forth, faster and faster, his hands moving to your hips to hold you tight against him. You could feel yourself getting closer once again, your body tightening against Dean’s. With his knowledge of your body, he knew you were close, his fingers moving down and rubbing your clit.  
Once again you exploded, your eyes closing as the pleasure almost became too much. Dean followed quickly behind, grunting your name as he pressed tight against you, his hips still.   
“Damn.” He muttered once he came down from his high. Pulling from you, he settled against your side, neither of you caring that you were covered in sweat.   
“Well, that was better than any massage.” You whispered, earning a hearty chuckle from him.


	118. Shot in the Heart

The relaxation and time spent naked in Dean’s arms quickly left you the second a loud knock sounded on your door, Sam’s voice quickly following behind.  
“Little brothers. Why do they have to ruin everything?” Dean muttered, before climbing out of the bed. Making no move to get out yet, you watched as the muscles in his back rippled as he pulled on his jeans. Tossing you his t-shirt, you slipped it over your head right before he opened the door and Sam came barging in.  
“There’s be an incident.” He announced. “The wife says her husband is back at her house.”  
“Why’s that a bad thing?” You asked, still a little bit behind in this hunt. After your day spent at the spa, you and Dean hadn’t had much of a chance to talk.   
“Because her husband’s heart had been ripped out.” Dean answered. “Where is she?”  
“She just called. She’s far from her house, and I told her to come here.” Sam explained. “Dean, I don’t think we’re dealing with a shifter here. It doesn’t seem to fit.”  
“Then what?” Dean asked as he reached into his bag for another t-shirt. “All things pointed towards it being a shifter.”  
“She said something about a spell.” Sam answered, turning to face the door as you began making your way from underneath the covers. Grabbing your clothes, you made it into the bathroom, just as they started talking again.   
Quickly changing, you stepped back into the room, just in time to see the door open and a woman step inside. She was in a frantic state, her hair frizzed around her face, her chest heaving. “Agents, you need to help me!” She exclaimed, before making sure the door was locked behind her.   
Coming forward, you tried to calm her down. “Hi, we haven’t met yet, but I’m Y/N. Why don’t you come sit down, and we can talk?”  
Following you to the bed, she sank down, pressing her head into her hands. “I don’t know what’s going on. First the baby sitter dies, then my husband. But now he’s back, and he isn’t right!”  
Turning to face Dean, you could literally see the wheels turning in his head as he began to piece together what was going on. Before he could say anything, the window was smashed in, a determined looking man jumping through.   
“No!” The lady exclaimed, jumping up and behind Dean, as the man moved steadily forward, his gaze not wavering from what must be his wife. Caught in the middle, you grabbed Dean’s gun, shooting the man multiple times in the chest, your eyes widening when it didn’t even slow him down.   
“Dean, what do we do?” You asked before the man swiped an arm out, sending you flying into the wall. Laying there, your head hurting from where it cracked against the wall, you watched as Dean grabbed the woman, pressing his lips to her. “What the…?” You muttered, hoping that Dean had a good reason he was kissing someone besides you.  
As soon as his lips left hers, you could see the man’s intense gaze shift. No longer interested in the woman, he was heading straight for Dean. Hurrying over to you, Sam helped you to your feet. “Grab your stuff, we’re getting out of here.”  
Luckily, almost all your stuff was still in your bag. Picking it up, along with Dean’s, you turned to see Sam shove the man into the wall, letting the rest of you pass before joining along. After a quick detour into his room, you raced down the back stairs, away from the glances of the curious onlookers. Climbing into the Impala, Dean sped away, not slowing down until he was almost a mile from the motel.  
“Now, how about you tell us the truth?” He forcefully asked her, and you watched as she fiddled with her hands.  
“I knew my husband was cheating on me with the babysitter.” She started.  
“Maybe cliché right there.” You muttered.  
“I just wanted him back. I wanted things back to the way they used to be. My hairdresser said she had something to help, and so I agreed. But it wasn’t supposed to happen this way, I promise!”   
“Just tell us where to find your hairdresser so we can end this before anything else happens.” Sam pleaded with her, and she blurted out an address. Within five minutes Dean was pulling up in front of a darkened shopping center.   
“Stay here.” Dean ordered her, before the three of you climbed out of the car. Making sure everyone had witch killing bullets loaded and ready to go, you carefully made your way into the business. At first glance, it looked like there was no one there, and it really didn’t surprise you. It was late at night, and her shop had closed a long time ago. Seeing a door propped open, you nodded to both Sam and Dean, letting them know about the new situation.  
Following behind them, you kept your eyes and ears open for any sound of movement as they kept their guns trained in front of them. Walking down the darkened stairway, they came to what was a construction site, with plastic curtains, and pieces of wood lying throughout.  
“I think I’m going to head up, see if I can find the office.” Sam whispered, heading back up the stairs, leaving you and Dean alone in the unfinished basement.   
“Straight or left?” Dean asked you, pointing to the dark hallway off to the left, or the plastic curtains straight ahead.  
Nodding your head to the side, you took off, giving yourself a moment for your eyes to grow accustomed to the dark hallway. Searching for doors along the wall, you quickly came to the end, a dead end. Turning around, you made your way back to the plastic, just in time to hear the sounds of a struggle coming from behind it.


	119. Deepest Desire

Turning around, you made your way back to the plastic, just in time to hear the sounds of a struggle coming from behind it. “Dean?” You called out, not surprised when he didn’t answer you. Stepping quietly through the plastic curtains, standing in the shadows, freezing at what you saw.  
Dean and Amara were circling the roughly made table, and you wondered what she was doing here. Why she had been drawn to this hunt, but not any of your others. Waiting for your moment to head out there, to help him out, you waited curiously as he spoke.  
“What are you doing here? I was expecting Y/N. Hell, even daisy duke, but not you.” Dean grumbled, carefully watching her.   
“Don’t you realize you can’t fight it any longer? I am your deepest desire. Not Y/N, or whoever that other person was. You need me, you can’t fight this magnetic pull between the two of us. Y/N is just blocking you from coming to me. Get rid of her, and then we can be together.” She purred, trying to get closer to him.  
“No!” Dean exclaimed. “I don’t believe you! I love Y/N, more than I could ever love you!”  
“You don’t have to love me Dean. But you desire me, more than you’ve ever desired her. Stop fighting it. Let me kill her, and then we can be happy. You can rule, right by my side.” She pleaded with him.  
With tears in your eyes, you waited for him to deny her again, to try and kill her. But when his hand hung limply to his side, his head tilting in defeat, you couldn’t stand it anymore. Racing up the stairs, you ran straight into the witch, who glanced at you in surprise.  
“Another one?” She asked, and it was then you saw Sam struggling in his chair, her magic holding him to the spot. “You hunt in packs now?”   
“Y/N, the heart!” Sam exclaimed, and you saw the shriveled-up heart in the box. Before the witch could stop your hand, you plunged your dagger into the heart, stabbing it multiple times.   
Forgetting all about you, the witch raced to the heart, holding it gently in her hands. “No!” She screamed, before turning to face you. “What have you done?”  
As she raised her hand up to snap your neck, a shot rang out, and she slumped to the ground. “Y/N, are you okay?” Sam asked you, coming forward to see your tear stained cheek.   
“No.” You whispered, plastering yourself to his chest, needing some sort of comfort as your heart ached.   
“What is it? Is it Dean?” He asked you, his gaze wandering to the stairs.   
“It’s nothing.” You sighed. “It doesn’t matter.”  
Stepping back just as Dean rounded the corner, coming slowly up the stairs. His eyes searched for yours, his full of guilt and doubt. Taking a deep breath, you tried to keep back the tears, wondering how things could have gone from so amazing to horrible in such a fast time.   
“Y/N?” Dean asked, telling you that you weren’t doing a decent job of hiding your emotions.  
“You okay?” You asked, turning the conversation away from you.   
“Yeah, just had a little tussle with the monster down there.” He answered, his eyes moving away from yours.   
“What was it? Were you fighting Y/N?” Sam asked him carefully, and it took Dean a moment to answer.   
“No, it was daisy duke. Those shorts man. Maybe I should get Y/N a pair.”  
His lie hadn’t convinced either you or Sam, but the two of you let it slide. Heading back out to the car where the wife waited, you slipped silently into the backseat, keeping your gaze out the window. Missing the curious glance Dean sent your way.   
You stayed silent the entire way to her house, smiling at her as she climbed out of the car, her entire life changed that night. Instead of settling for a new hotel room, Dean decided to drive for a while, get as close to the bunker as possible.  
It was about two hours later Sam fell asleep, his gentle snoring filling the car. As if he was waiting for that moment, Dean spoke up. “Y/N, you’ve been awfully quiet, and I noticed how pale you were during that hunt. Is everything okay?”  
Sighing, you knew you should come clean. That you should tell him the truth of what you saw. “No, everything isn’t okay.”  
“What’s wrong? Do I need to pull over? Find you some food, or a place to sleep for a while? Pie?” He asked, trying to raise your spirits.   
“Is she truly your deepest desire?” You asked quietly, watching as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Do you desire her more than you desire me?”  
“We’re not talking about this now.” Dean answered, his jaw clenched.   
“When? When you’ve thrown me out of the bunker and have gone to be by her side?” You asked sarcastically.  
“Damn it Y/N, I said not now.” He growled, swerving the car hard enough to wake Sam up.  
“What’s up?” Sam asked groggily.  
“We’re stopping for the night. You’re getting your own room.” Dean answered him, his voice booking no argument. Within five miles Dean was pulling over in front of a rundown hotel, slamming the car door as he went to get the keys.  
“What happened while I was asleep?” Sam asked you.  
“Sam, don’t tell him I told you. But back there at the beauty shop, Dean saw Amara. She was his deepest desire. Not me.” You told him, your heart breaking at the thought.  
As soon as Dean returned, he threw the key at Sam before grabbing your arm and pulling you to your own room. You could see Sam standing there, looking undecided, as if he should come save you from his brother. Giving him a small smile, you silently told him you would be okay. That no matter how much of an argument you and Dean got into, the two of you would figure something out. You had been through so much already, hopefully you could work this out as well.


	120. Talking it Out

Dean didn’t say anything as he slammed the door shut. His grip still tight on your arm, not even lettering you go as he locked the door behind him.  
“Dean, you’re hurting me.” You told him quietly, and he dropped his hand immediately as if you burned him.  
“Y/N, I’m…” He muttered, running his hand along his mouth. “I don’t know how to start.”  
“Umm, the truth is always a good start.” You snapped back, softening when you saw the look of heartbreak and fear in his eyes. “Dean, I’m just trying to figure things out. We’ve been through so much together. This world has tried to pull us apart, time and time again. But yet we’ve managed to fight it, and I thought we are stronger because of it.”  
Reaching out, he pulled you to his chest, and you let him. It felt safe, and right to be in his arms, and you loved being there more so than any other spot in this world. “Y/N, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything. There have been times I thought I was dying because you were not by my side. I have no idea why she showed up as my deepest desire, because she’s not. You are, and you will always be.”  
“But then…” You wondered out loud, believing his words.   
“Maybe it’s because we’re tied so close. I had the Mark, the lock to her cage, and that brought us close together. Maybe it’s because I’m her deepest desire. That the mark has us tied in a way that I’m having trouble fighting. But know this. I will never willingly pick her over you.”  
“Dean, deep down I knew that. It just hurt, seeing you and her together, knowing it could have been me.” You answered.  
“I’m so sorry you had to see that. And when you brought it up in the car, I had no idea how to answer. I knew if you saw you would hate me, and I couldn’t have that.” He muttered, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.   
“I can’t hate you. Even if you totally shattered my heart, I don’t think I could.”  
“Y/N, can I tell you something.” He mumbled so quietly you weren’t sure you heard him at first. As he guided you over to the bed, you nodded. Laying down on your side, you pulled him down with you until the two of you were lounging in bed, arms wrapped around each other.   
“She scares me. The hold she has over me. I love you, and will never willingly leave you. But what if she forces me? What if I can’t control myself? I can’t do that to either you, or myself!” He cried out, and you could hear the pain in his voice.  
“You will be able to fight her.” You assured him. “You’re strong, and your heart is full and good. No matter what she does, I know you’ll be okay.”  
“How can you have such faith in me?” He asked you, his arms tight around you. “I’m a mess, a broken and ugly mess. And yet, you’ve stayed with me, even with the darkness trying to lure me to her.”  
“Because you’re my mess.” You answered him, trying to make light of the situation. “Because even though you might not see it, you’re a good person, with one of the biggest, kindest hearts I know.”  
“How did I get so lucky?” He asked you, and you just shrugged.  
“Can we just go to sleep now?” You asked tiredly. “It’s been an exhausting day.”   
“Of course. I’m just glad that we were able to clear that up. I was worried that you wouldn’t believe me.” He admitted, and you tilted your head up to stare in his green eyes.  
“Of course I would believe you. Amara is real, and powerful, and her hold on you is as real as well. And I’ll be by your side, fighting against her every moment. She’s not going to be able to take you from me.”  
Yawning, Dean stood up, slipping out of his boots and jeans while you did the same. Grabbing one of his spare shirts from his bag, you slipped it on before climbing under the covers, yawning widely.   
“So, what’s our plan for tomorrow?” You asked him as he came back from the bathroom.  
“Head back to the bunker. Try to figure out where she is, and try to get rid of her once and for all.” He answered emphatically, climbing under the covers with you, and pulling you tight to him.  
“That sounds wonderful. And then maybe we can go to Disneyland.” You whispered, already half asleep.  
“Once we get rid of Amara, I’ll take you anywhere your heart desires.” He answered you, kissing your temple.


	121. Hand of God

Days passed, and you fell into a comfortable routine at the bunker. Sam would wake up early, much earlier than either you or Dean, taking a run around the forest around the bunker. You would lay snuggled next to Dean, on his memory foam mattress, content to be held in his arms until your stomach started rumbling.  
Each morning you would lay there as Dean slowly moved out of bed, stretching his tight muscles as he reached for his usual black t-shirt. It was always your favorite part of the morning. Watching his shoulder muscles clench and move as the shirt slipped over his head. The way his hair stood straight up, mainly because you couldn’t help but run your fingers through it the night before. He would often stand there, staring down at you with a peculiar look in his eyes.   
Some mornings he would lean down, press his lips softly to yours before making his way to the kitchen where he would cook the two of you breakfast. Other times, the shirt never made it completely over his head before he was pulling you underneath him, breakfast long forgotten.  
On those mornings, you would stumble into the kitchen, your hair tangled, but a smile on your lips. Sam would shake his head, before reaching over and handing you a cup of coffee without saying a word. Dean would soon join you, and the day would finally begin.  
It was then you began your search for Amara. Searching everything you could get your hands on, trying to figure out where she was hiding. What she was doing, and why she hadn’t come after Dean once again. Never, not even once had she tried to see him, even when he went on errands, or shopping trips. You were relieved, but you knew it was only a matter of time before she came after him. You just wanted to be ready, to stop her before things went array.  
“Y/N, we’ve been searching for over a week now, and we’ve found nothing!” Dean grumbled, slamming another book closed. Picking it up, he placed it on the ever-growing pile, another dead end on how to stop Amara.   
“Dean, I know you’re frustrated, but we can’t give up hope.” You insisted, sitting down in his lap. Forcing him to look at you, you placed your hand on his cheek. “There are literally millions of people depending on us. But that’s not just it. We can’t let her win. I can’t let her win. Because that means she will have you. And me? She’ll rip me into pieces, laughing as she did so.”  
Grabbing your wrist, he looked you straight in the eye. “That is not going to happen.” He assured you. “No matter how bad it gets, I will not give in to her. I will not let her get her hands on you. Even if I must send you far, far away. I will not let Amara kill you.”  
“I would rather die than be moved from your side.” You whispered, cuddling tight to his chest. “I’m just confident that we will figure something out.”  
Sighing, he pressed his lips to yours, before reaching over and taking another book from the pile. Relieved that you had calmed him down a little, you left his lap, taking a book with you to your favorite little arm chair in the corner.   
Time passed, as the two of you stayed silent. Sam came into the library, his laptop in his hands, sitting down across from his brother. Giving each other a glance, they got back to work.   
With your eyes almost crossing from too much reading, you were about ready to stand up for a break when Dean slammed his hand on the table, exclaiming in delight. “I think I’ve found something!”  
It was the perfect opportunity for a break, and you stood up, making your way towards him. With one hand still on the book, Dean wrapped his other arm around your waist, pulling you tight to him. “It’s an old men of letters book. Talking about powerful objects, including the hand of God.”  
“Hand of God?” You repeated as Sam slammed his computer shut, giving Dean his full attention.   
“It’s an item that God has touched, giving it a great deal of power. But it’s only good for one use.” Sam explained, of course knowing exactly what you were talking about. “But do we think it’s strong enough to defeat her?”  
“It’s our only shot, isn’t it?” Dean shot back, as you stood there, sitting quietly.   
“How are we even going to get our hands on such an item?” You thought out loud, not missing the frown that flittered onto Dean’s face. “They have to be very rare.”  
“I know where.” Dean answered, pointing to the book in front of him. “The last known place one had been seen is on this submarine.”  
Leaning over, you read the description in the book, getting more confused by the second. “Dean, that sub went down a long time ago. How do you expect us to find the wreckage, let alone the hand of god?”  
“Cas!” Dean bellowed. “We need your help!”   
“Dean, I don’t think that’s going to wo…” Sam started to argue, but you heard the slamming of the huge iron door, before Cas’ long trench coat was visible on the main staircase.  
“What is it Dean?” Cas asked as he came down the stairs. Staring at him, you tried to figure out what was different with the Angel. Something seemed off, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. His hair seemed messy and unkempt. His trench coat still unbuttoned showing off the backwards tie and the suit underneath.   
“Cas, I need you to send me back in time.” Dean ordered, earning a scoff from Sam.  
“Dean, Cas’ powers are limited. There’s no way he can send you back in time.” Sam started arguing, but Cas held his hand up, stopping Sam.  
“I think I’ll be able to. I’ve had a chance to recover a little bit, and this hand of god is a wonderful idea.” Cas answered, something about him still confusing you. “I will transport the two of us back in time, where we can retrieve this valuable item.”


	122. Ruined Plans

"I think I'll be able to. I've had a chance to recover a little bit, and this hand of god is a wonderful idea." Cas answered, something about him still confusing you. "I will transport the two of us back in time, where we can retrieve this valuable item."  
You still felt as if something was off, but you were just as eager as Sam and Dean to find a way to take care of Amara once and for all. Even if that meant ignoring the sinking feeling deep in your gut.   
“Cas, let’s get this going.” Dean insisted, clapping his hands together, missing the frown that stayed on your face.   
“I’ll get the ingredients for the spell.” Sam spoke up, leaving the room. Dean and Cas continued to talk at the far end of the table, leaving you to stand there, unsure. Sam came back, his arms full of ingredients, and Cas smiled, a smile that you had sworn wasn’t his. When he caught you staring at him, he winked, before turning to the Winchester brothers, ignoring you.   
Standing there, you watched as they worked, mixing and grinding ingredients. “Alright, let’s get this started!” Cas exclaimed, grabbing Dean’s shoulder before the two of them suddenly vanished, leaving you standing there, hoping that nothing would go wrong.   
“Sam, I don’t have a good feeling about this.” You told him as he began cleaning up the mess from the spell. “Didn’t Cas seem different?”  
Before Sam could answer you, what sounded like thunder cracked right next to you, and Cas appeared. He was soaking wet, his trench coat completely soaked, drenching the tile floor beneath him. “Cas, what happened!” You exclaimed as Sam rounded the table. “Where’s Dean?”  
“Landing on submarine, years ago is tricky business. I guess this one was warded. Dean was able to get inside, but unless he breaks the wards, I’m out of luck.” Cas explained.   
“What’s that mean for Dean?” You exclaimed, your voice raising an octave. “Is he stuck in the past? On a doomed submarine?”   
“No, I have to go back. It’s just complicated.” Cas literally growled, surprising you.   
Turning back to Sam, your eyes huge, you raised your hands, trying to get him to help you out. Running his hand through his hair, he turned to the Angel. “Do we have to do the spell again?”   
“You guys just don’t give up, do you?” Cas spat, his eyes narrowing as he glared your way. “Y/N here, she’s smart. Probably smarter than both you and Deano combined. You figured it out, didn’t you sweetheart?”   
“I don’t…I don’t know what you mean.” You stuttered as he stalked you much like a predator, moving so unlike the angel you were used to.  
“Think sweetheart.” He insisted, as your back slammed against one of the pillars, stopping your retreat. “You couldn’t take your eyes off me. And I know Cas has some pretty blue eyes, but it wasn’t because you wanted him instead of Dean, was it?”  
“Cas, what are you doing?” Sam asked, rushing to help you, but with a flick of his wrist, Sam went flying into the wall. A crooked smile on his face, Cas leaned close to you, his arm pressing into the tile above you.   
“I knew you were different. I wasn’t sure what, but you didn’t seem like the same Cas.” You muttered, the evil glint in his eyes, the smirk on his face registering. You finally knew why it was bothering you so much. “Or should I say Lucifer?”  
“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner. And such a pretty one too!” Cas, or Lucifer exclaimed, leaning forward for a second. “I still don’t get why you’re with that doofus Deano. You could do so much better. Like me.”   
“What did you do to Cas?” You asked, seeing Sam struggle to get up in the corner of your vision.   
“I didn’t do anything. The man just wanted to help, and did it the only way he thought he could.” Lucifer explained as Sam shakily stood to his feet. “He did what that Moose never had the balls to do.”   
“Cas, no.” You whispered, hoping he was still in there. That somehow you could reach him.   
“Now, let’s see how I should finish this.” Lucifer spoke mainly to himself, not noticing Sam as he started to move. “I could kill you and Moose, and then when Dean comes back, kill him as well. Keep the hand of God for myself.”   
“Why do you want it?” You asked, trying to distract him as Sam moved.  
“I want to stop that bitch.” Lucifer spat. “I want to be the one to kill her.”  
“I wish I believed that. You’ll probably use its power to try and rule the world.” You muttered, your eyes flashing to Sam. It was too much, and Lucifer turned around, growling when he saw Sam standing there, the Demon killing knife in his hand, a trail of blood slipping down his forehead.   
“Moose, I have to give you credit. You’re a tough one to keep down.” Lucifer grumbled, before grabbing you and holding you against him. “But I know you. You won’t do anything that would jeopardize Y/N. Besides, that’s just like a fly to me. It doesn’t kill.”   
“Leave her alone.” Sam growled low in his throat, continuing to move closer to Lucifer.   
“I don’t think so. She’s the perfect leverage. Dean will give anything up for her, and you wouldn’t risk hurting a hair on her head.” Lucifer chuckled.   
Taking a deep breath, you kicked back with all your might, the heel of your foot slamming right into his privates. “Sorry Cas.” You whispered, trying to pull free from his grasp.  
Groaning, Lucifer’s hold slipped, and you raced away, both you and Sam heading for the garage, as far away from Lucifer as you could. “I don’t think so.” Lucifer groaned, his hand cupping his sore member. “That hurt! I always heard it would, but I never thought it would be that painful.”  
Raising his hand, he slammed both of you into the walls, holding you high in the air. Kicking, you tried to get away, but Lucifer’s hold was too strong. It felt like a fist around your neck, squeezing until black spots filled your vision. Closing your eyes, you hoped that Dean would find the hand of God, that all of this wouldn’t be in vain.  
“What’s going on here?” Dean called out, and you opened your eyes to see him standing there, a petrified piece of wood in his hands. “Cas, what are you doing?”  
Unable to speak, you shook your head as Dean looked confused. “Dean, it’s Lucifer!” Sam was able to spit out, his words hoarse, turning into a groan as Lucifer tightened his hold.   
Grasping the wood in one hand, Dean pulled out his gun, and Lucifer just laughed. “You Winchesters and your pathetic weapons.”   
Charging Dean, he let both you and Sam slip to the ground, your head banging on the hard tile. Lucifer tackled Dean, the gun flying across the floor, along with the Hand of God. Trying to clear the black dots from your vision, you glanced up in horror to see Lucifer standing there, the formidable weapon in his hands. “I’ve got it!” He exclaimed, holding tightly to it, closing his eyes.   
Sam glanced between you and Dean, his eyes wide with fear as the two of you waited for your end. “Why’s it not working?” Lucifer screamed, glancing down at it with frustration.  
“I guess it’s a one use and done.” Dean explained. “I used it to get back here.”  
“No!” Lucifer cried, crumpling it in his hands. Turning to glare at the three of you, he raised his hand. “This isn’t over.” He promised, before vanishing from the bunker.

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a multi chapter story, and I hope to publish chapters regularly. Please feel free to leave any comments or suggestions, I always enjoy seeing what you guys think!


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